Instant Gratification
by Lord Malachite
Summary: You didn't really think this story was dead, did you? It may have seemed that way, but you were wrong, and now everyone has to suffer! A brand new chapter now available for your viewing pleasure..or displeasure as it may be. Updated May 26 2008!
1. Delicate

_Swead Entertainment_

_Making the illusion reality since 2000_

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_Pre-read by Shinji Langley _

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_You ask me why it had to be this way? Is love really supposed to last forever? I thought so. But now I'm not so sure. I can't possibly trust myself when I don't even know what I am. Right now, you're feeling any mixture of anger and betrayal. This feeling is only natural. It's the solitude that follows those feelings that I could never take. The cold realization that your nightmare world has replaced reality. You are unlovable. But you don't need me to share that with you. You've lived it and learned it all a thousand times by now._

_This, then, will be our legacy. And when you're sitting in a bar six years from now, remembering how close we came to having it all, I hope you will try not to hate me too much. Like you, I am only a fallible human being. But you are the last person I ever wanted to fail. I spent my entire life, practicing, waiting for the day when I could be your rock instead of your nemesis. Only now, I have become much worse._

_I don't know if you shall hear from me again. It is not within the locust's nature to return to that which he has already ravaged. Instead, we seek the next crop to devour in an endless struggle to satisfy our ending hunger. But still, you did give me your love. Freely and without any existence. I have yet to find anything else comparable in this world. But then, I always knew from a child of three that there could be no greater commodity on this earth than the contents of this heart. 'Twas a poor bargain to trade it for my own, but I have seen too much in this world to say that no good shall come of it. Only time will tell._

_Forever Yours,_

_Helga G. Pataki_

_P.S.—I have given back your name. To keep it would be to reward myself for cutting your heart into pieces. And it should be given to a girl who really knows what love is._

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_"Man is less delicate than the locust." Said Jorg, finally._

_"Man is the sewer of the universe." Said Sergei_

Charles Bukowski

"Less Delicate Than The Locust"

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Arnold sat quietly upon the wide, empty bed, feeling sorry for himself, a course of action he was not wont to engage in. Yet he could not find any other emotion, any other expression that could occupy his fragile mind and heart, not in this state. He had been left alone again. Throughout his entire existence, he was always the one to be left behind. It all seemed so unreal. And yet, there it was. He couldn't understand it. The schoolyard had beaten him again. Only this time, the stakes had been higher. Why? This time he had felt so certain, everything was so right. She was the one. It had seemed so obvious, once he had gotten inside. The person he had spent most of his life looking for, the one who would always be standing by with unconditional love and acceptance, beyond anything any family or friend could offer. And like a post-modern fairy tale, it had been the most unlikely one of all who had been ready, willing, and waiting for even longer than he had been.

For what surely must have been the thousandth time, Arnold lifted the picture frame that held an image of himself and Helga, taken at the local carnival only two weeks ago. They had been hideously overcharged for the photograph, of course, but it had been more than worth it. That night, they had reached an understanding, a merging of the lost and lonely. A cease fire. And the comfort they had found in each other's embrace had seemed the stuff of dreams. The kind of thing you never let go of. They were so good together. Arnold thought back to how they had come to be married in the first place, and stopped, realizing he no longer cared how crazy it was, how in the wrong Helga had been. It was past. And despite the fact that they had come together under extreme circumstances, it could never change the fact that they had come together. And she was the one. She protected and sheltered him from his demons, looked after him in a way more comforting than what he could only imagine a mother's embrace must feel like. And she did hold him so well. When they shared a bed, she had always kept him close, her chin lightly cradled into his hair, arms wrapped around his torso, her endless legs scissoring his lower half. She needed him just as badly, that constant reassurance that he belonged to her and would never leave her. The kind of made she practiced and gave, full of passion and perhaps slight dementia, but always real and deep and making you feel more alive. She was the answer to every question he ever had, veiled under the convincing camouflage of bravado, coupled with mistrust and cynicism. But beneath the façade, she was his all. Helga was light. Helga was air. Helga was food. Helga was life itself, pure and simple. And all because she dared to dream and refused to accept anything less than her goal. And she had left him because of that same insecurity that had bound her to him. She didn't believe in them. Or perhaps she didn't believe that he could ever love her. She was wrong. But none of it mattered now. She was gone somewhere, and he had no way of finding her.

Not for the first time, he wept, but Arnold tossed the emotion aside. It wouldn't bring Helga back to him; only push him further into loneliness and self-pity. Tracing the image of his love one last time, he set the picture down and picked up one of the many unread newspapers that had been delivered in the past week. Feeling the need to reflect upon something, anything other than the mess his life was collapsing into, Arnold flipped to the opinions and editorials section, smiling very slightly as he began reading what had become his favorite column.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_Sometimes the best and worst part of this job is the freedom I have to write what I want. Whatever I want! Every time I think about that, I can't help but wonder if they have the right person. I just recently found out that my editor and a computer program are the only people (or inanimate object as the case may be) who even see this thing before it's published and distributed to different papers around the country. I've been told it's because my publisher and backer has absolute faith in my talent and professionalism. Somehow, I think it has something to do with my friendship with the woman who just happens to own the publishing house. Hi Courtney!_

_Well, I guess that's enough about the business end of things for today. See how dangerous it can be to let me run rampant? This isn't the kind of job you might expect, it's really a lot harder than it looks. I'm lying across my bed, pecking away at the keys on my laptop. Sounds difficult, huh? The catch is, this isn't my home, so much as the home I grew up in. I come back to my mother's house to help my brother get ready for college, and suddenly I realize I haven't even written my column this week. It's amazing what a call from your boss can motivate you to do. Anyhow, I'm typing on my old bed, spending more time sneaking glances out the window than I am writing. I haven't been here in awhile. There's a lot of memories around me. It's funny; I kind of assumed that Dr. Dave would've turned my old room into a den or something by now. Score another one for maternal sentimentality and apron strings. I should've known Mom wouldn't let me down. _

_It's a strange feeling, when you keep expecting your childhood to just pick up where it left off. I keep waiting for one of my BFFs to call, or for Darren to climb through my windowsill. And then something in my brain reminds me that I'm not in Kansas anymore. Everything is different when you're on this side of the line that separates kids and adults. Not better, not worse. Just different. I like who I am and where I'm going, but when I'm in these surroundings, suddenly I want to stop myself from getting any older. I want to go back to the way things were, back when I only had to worry about getting a date for the dance, or battling with teachers, helping out a friend, getting term papers in on time, or just eating chocolate and staying up late. Now I have to worry about things like rent and car payments and finding the time to do something as simple as getting my hair done. Now I'm on the outside looking in, and like most everyone else in my age bracket, I've realized too late that grades 7-12 were the best times of my life. _

_We rarely appreciate what we have until it's gone. Maybe youth is wasted on the young. As I lay here on my bed, I find myself second-guessing everything I ever did as a teenager. I was always a pretty good kid; I didn't do much to make my mom pull her hair out. But should I have done some things differently? There must be. There always is. But is there anything to be done? It's past, over and gone. All you can do now is look. But sometimes, when you shut your eyes, the sounds and smells will come back to you. _

_Forgive me, but suddenly, I don't feel like writing. Maybe it's a little unprofessional of me to tell you how the soup is made, but this kind of thing happens sometimes. I end up starting and stopping almost every day, but my editor manages to take it and make it look like genius at work. And it looks like this is one of those days. Don't worry, I'll be back in a bit, I promise._

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The column continued on, but Arnold did as Miss Foutley suggested and took a break. It was exactly as she had written, an illusion. Perpetrated by a machine and a literary witch doctor that could make even the most piecemeal work into another brilliant column for the masses. And yet, she exposed her weakness to millions of people she didn't even know. She didn't have to, she chose to. It shamed him to be cooped up in the building, afraid to even go outside, to face his own life. He had to be stronger. For so long, people had come to him with the answers. It wouldn't do if he couldn't help himself. Frustrated with his inaction, Arnold read on.

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_That's so much better. I just really needed a break from all this. Some of these thoughts aren't very pleasant, and I don't like to dwell on them. But when I'm surrounded by all these memories, I find myself thinking about the fights I had with my friends, not just the good times. And the fact that they aren't here right now. I came here alone. Simple excuse, help my brother move out and get settled into a dorm. But now it's getting much harder to deny the truth I've had trouble letting go of. And I just ended a sentence in a preposition, that's like a cardinal no-no in grammar! I'm breathing faster. There's this creeping fear that's been assaulting my thoughts; that maybe when all is said and done, I, too, am less delicate than the locust. That it's just part of the curse of being human, something I haven't been able to overcome. And what does that make me? I'm a senior in college and I don't even know what I want to do with my life yet! If this were high school, my friends would be here to help me. And yet, as I lie here on this bed, I realize that my relationships with those people are falling apart. That maybe we've done too much to each other, gone our separate ways, gotten selfish, knives in the back. Put everything before our friendship. Work, success, guys, everything that becomes important in those final years of your childhood—getting ready for the end of it. I didn't even call my best friend for fashion advice the day of senior prom! I don't call her anymore. I don't know why. I'm not upset with her, I don't even think badly of her. Well, maybe a little, but we've been friends for a long time, I know I have blemishes on my record as well. And then there's my other best friend. I talked with her once this year, but it's a little painful to speak with her. She's doing exactly what she wants to do, and I'm naked in the dark. I'll be graduating from college this year and now I find myself worrying that maybe I've been wasting the past four years on something that isn't for me. Even my brother knows what he wants out of life! So where's Ginger's turn? The only thing I feel confident about right now is this column. A column which I am paid a substantial amount of money to bring to the Gripling Publishing Empire every week. Am I name dropping here? Maybe I've just lost my tact; I don't feel like I have a lot of dignity right now. Courtney, if you're reading this, I'm not badmouthing you. Quite the contrary, I'm really grateful for the chance to share a little slice of life with America every week. But I'm just. . .going through some stuff here. _

_And I'm probably wearing out my welcome, and for that, I'm truly sorry, all of you. This isn't what you came here to read. I know, I check my fan mail. People like my stories. They like my observations, my rally cries, my semi-annual call to stop and smell the roses because life is passing you by. But now I feel like my life isn't going anywhere. That maybe I won't get it started. Before this paragraph, I broke again to stop and call someone very near and dear to me. I really needed it. He made me cry. Some guy, huh? But, they weren't the bad kind of tears, so don't worry. _

_Okay, so this is it. No witty punch line. Nothing to make you smile. Foutley's all tapped out today, forgive me. But please, if you never take anything else I've said in this forum to heart, then keep this with you. Find yourself. And don't ever let go. Give some serious thought to who you are, and what you want out of life. Love deeply and with all you are. Love each other. Don't let the sun go down on your anger. Don't talk about making the world a better place, do something about it. Keep your cool. Fire your passions. Call your parents. Plant tulips. Drink herbal tea. Spit into the wind. Breathe deep. Pinch yourself to know that you're alive. But don't feel sorry for yourself. It only leads to self-indulgent writing. Self-indulgent writing. In tenth grade, I was taught that this is the greatest sin an author can perpetrate. Well if that's true, then go ahead and put me in the queue for the hot place, because today I just can't take it anymore. Does anybody out there need instructions how to cry? Because over the past several hours, I've become something of an expert. And if I have to hear my mother knocking on my bedroom door one more time, begging me to tell her what's wrong while I'm sobbing like a schoolgirl, I don't think I can keep me myself from getting hysterical. This is Ginger Foutley, 21 going on 12, saying good night._

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Arnold dropped the paper from his hands half in shock. He felt a deep feeling of shame wash over him, followed by a sorrow for whatever was happening to Miss Foutley. His own life was pretty much a shambles at the moment, yet obviously she wasn't doing much better. And even though he had never met the girl in his life, her words had made him feel as though she were reaching through that paper, imploring him not to give into his pain, to keep fighting. And she was right. He was taking the easy way out. Letting go, shutting out his family and friends. He had to fight on, open himself up again, be willing to risk getting hurt. As though life were cheering him on, his phone rang. Tentatively, Arnold rested his hand on the plastic contraption, his fingers tracing along the surface of the handset before picking it up. "Hello?"

"Arnold?"

"Rhonda?"

"Are you alright? I heard about what happened, news is traveling fast."

"No, I'm not all right."

"Do you want to talk about it, or is it too soon?"

"I want to talk about it, but I just don't even know where to start. Everything hurts, Rhonda."

"I know." She whispered. "Wait there, all right? I'm going to come over there."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Rhonda."

"Arnold. . .who was the last person you saw?"

"Phoebe. That was four days ago."

"You can't lock yourself away from the world in there. Come on, Arnold, I know you. Let me be your friend here. Especially with Gerald. . ."

"All right." Arnold relented. "You can come over. But give me a few minutes. It's been a rough few days, and I need a shower."

"Half an hour. And don't you dare think of leaving."

"I don't have anywhere to go."

"I'm bringing something with me. I think it'll help. Or at least loosen you up a little."

"Just don't throw too much at me all at once." Arnold sighed.

"Arnold," Rhonda whispered again, "Your entire life, you've been helping other people, playing the part of a living sacrifice. You've gone so far out of your way for me. Please just let me do something to comfort you now, don't pretend you don't need it."

The faintest of smiles cropped on Arnold's face, he knew he could never deny Rhonda. Perhaps she did as well. "I'll see you in half an hour, Rhonda."

"I'll be there." She smiled, and then hung up the phone before he had a chance to change his mind.

Sighing to himself, Arnold climbed off the bed and made the journey to the bathroom, where he brushed his teeth, shaved, and got into the shower to wash away four days worth of filth. As the hot water ran over his body, soothing is muscles, he wondered how he could possibly explain everything to Rhonda. Or even keep his composure, as everything around him continued to remind him of Helga. Much to Arnold's chagrin, he quickly realized that the only place to begin would have to be at the beginning. . .

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Author's Notes

And so it begins. Nothing like you expected, I'm sure. It was when I began writing this story in earnest that I decided I wanted to start with the ending rather than the beginning. I feel that this gives me the opportunity to go off in different directions and tell a far more interesting story. Different angles to work and all that. So I'll be cutting back to this scenario with Arnold with some amount of frequency.

So now, I guess, is the major question a lot of you are wondering about. Why on earth did I include a column written by Ginger Foutley? There are a lot of reasons. Her writing is supposed to underscore the general mood and parallel the situations that unfold as the story progresses. I chose her to be my own voice. She's a writer, she lives in Connecticut, it just seemed like a very natural fit.

I'm very proud of this chapter as a whole. I feel that it has a good hook, really makes you want to know more about what's going on. I know I'm going to enjoy writing this story. I feel that it will be a completely different experience than _The Sweet Hereafter_ was, and I don't consider that to be a bad thing. The primary difference is that I'm really trying to write a hit, here. TSH was mostly experimental for me, to see if I could cut it in this fandom. I got a very flattering amount of positive feedback on that, and quite a bit of interest in this story since I first announced it back in January. That's really helped in my creative process. The downside is that I have expectations to meet. There's no greater fear as a writer than to start something like this and be worried that it will fall flat. Because I've been working on this for so long, I'd really appreciate your feedback. Even if you don't like it, that's alright. I'd like to know why.

Anywho, assuming that everyone hasn't hated this and you want this story to stick around, I'm going to turn the clock back next chapter to, well, the beginning. Those final days of high school where everything began. I'd like to tell you more, but I don't want to ruin any surprises. So you'd better get ready! You asked for it, you begged for it, you pleaded with me to release it sooner, and it's too late to back out now! Instant Gratification has begun!

As always, send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

06/13/05

4:09AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	2. And So We Commence

And So We Commence

A considerable amount of anxiety and boredom passed over the high gymnasium as one Phoebe Heyerdahl gave an exhaustive speech about the future each member of the graduating class would soon be embracing. It wasn't a terribly fascinating speech, heartfelt as she had made it. A lot of standard issue components had gone into its making. How many graduation speeches had been given over the last century? Surely by now, it had all been done. But she did the best she could with the material she had, trying to focus things on her classmates rather than making clichéd generalizations.

High up in countless rows of bleachers that lined the gymnasium, two best friends sat taking in the scenery, daydreaming, and generally not paying attention. Gerald sat in his yellow jersey and faded black jeans, holding his head in his hands and sighing. "Man Arnold, I am so bored, I can't stand it!"

"Oh come on, Gerald. It's not that bad. Besides, she's your girlfriend." Arnold replied. He comfortably wore a pair of black Dockers with a red button-down shirt, fashion advice he had picked up from Rhonda during their extended courtship. His hair bore a slick part down the middle, and it fell behind him neatly. A baseball cap nested within the part and burrowing slightly into the hair on either side of his head. The cherished hat of his youth lay safely tucked away inside a chest under his bed; he had decided in junior high to preserve this link to his parents, as so few remained.

"That's just it! Do you have any idea how many times I've heard this speech already? She's been practicing and rewriting and damn near driving me crazy for weeks! I feel like I'm gonna go nuts if I have to sit through it one more time!"

"Think of it this way, Gerald. It's something you do for love. Like last year when I spent an entire, perfectly good Saturday sitting through a fashion show because she was a judge, as it were."

"I didn't know those things had judges."

"They don't, not like in a beauty contest, anyway. It's more a case of deciding what's hot and what's not."

"Sounds like a girl thing to me."

"I guess. I was just doing the boyfriend thing. It was really boring. At least the hotel we stayed in was nice."

"You stayed in a hotel with Rhonda Lloyd? Overnight! You dog!"

"C'mon Gerald, it wasn't like that at all. We slept together, but we didn't _sleep_ together. It was totally innocent. Well, mostly anyway."

"Are you saying that you passed up a chance with her? Man, Arnold! It's bad enough that every guy in the school wants her, and then you say no to the Promised Land!"

"I didn't want to get on the wrong side of her father." Arnold explained. "That man really liked me. Of course, there was no way he would let me get that serious with Rhonda. We're not from the same world. She could date me, sure. It's only high school. But for marriage, she'll be paired up with someone who's-"

"Rich?" Gerald finished for him.

"Yeah. It's one of the reasons we broke up. That, and we felt like we're lacking something. Passion, I guess."

"No heat?"

"Maybe we were just too comfortable with each other. Sometimes I wish we had stayed together a bit longer. Going to the prom solo was really weird."

"Sorry. I should've been there for you more."

"Nah, it's okay. You're supposed to be with your girl on the night of senior prom. I was okay with being a wallflower. The punch was good, anyway."

"You always have to find the bright side in everything, don't you?"

Arnold shrugged. "Someone has to."

Phoebe relinquished the podium to much applause, and as Gerald clapped his hands, he wondered how many people were doing likewise because she was finished. The whole ceremony was an artifice, anyhow. The real deal would happen that night, among friends and family, a burgeoning crowd usually only seen once a year. Graduation, that time honored tradition where students who had devoted the last thirteen years of their lives to the school system were given a black folio that contained an I.O.U., the actual diploma would arrive in the mail a good month later.

"What's next?" Arnold asked, motioning to the program on his friend's lap.

Gerald groaned. "Helga Pataki. Like we can't graduate with her blessing." He rolled his eyes.

"It's probably about the paper, Gerald. She really loves it. She turned it into something we actually read, you have to give her that."

"It doesn't change her personality. I get enough of Phoebe singing her praises, don't you start on me too!"

"Singing her praises?" Arnold chuckled. "Gerald, the extent of my relationship with Helga is an exchanged nod when we pass each other in the hallway. Once we got past grade school, a lot of us went our separate ways. I mean, do you keep tabs on Park or Iggy or Lorenzo?

"Point taken. But Helga is a lot harder to ignore. Way harder. Did you see her at the prom?"

"I wish I hadn't" Arnold sighed. "She was just. . .all alone. Hardly anyone talked to her the entire night, from what I could make out. I talked to lots of people, I even danced some later into the night. But she. . .I felt bad for her, Gerald. I was going to say something, maybe ask her to dance for old times sake, but I figured I would only upset her. She looked pretty miserable."

"Face it, Arnold. Some people were just born to be alone. Personally, I'm just glad there's only one of her."

"You're right about that, Gerald. There's only one Helga."

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A girl of noticeable height walked across the gymnasium floor, crossing the polished wood of the basketball court as she moved towards the slightly raised dais, where the podium awaited. Her white sneakers were undoubtedly new, with hardly a scuff mark showing. They were complimented by a pair of pink and white ankle socks, two endless stalks, legs that stretched on forever, a folded pink skirt making them disappear from view just over her knees. Her top was a shiny aqua blue and it somehow complimented her blonde hair, which cascaded past her shoulders before becoming a long ponytail. A worn but intact pink bow remained fastened around the long lock of hair, a trademark since she had first started school.

Helga Pataki stood in front of the microphone, clearing her throat and getting a good look at her audience. Most of them looked uneasy. She had a reputation for being unpleasant and short with people. She wasn't the type of girl you initiated a conversation with. She had few friends, Phoebe the only real one. She discouraged any brave man who came onto her, and had backhanded one girl in junior year who had wrongly assumed that Helga "swung the other way."

However, despite all those negative traits in her personality, no one could deny that she was a brilliant writer. Spectacular, even. In her four years of working on the high school newspaper, she had never failed to stir up some kind of controversy. Most teachers though she was either a wonder girl or a menace. More than once, she had been forced to play one against the other to keep herself out of trouble. But as Helga looked around at her fellow classmates, none of those feelings came through on her face. Mostly, she just felt a kind of melancholy sorrow, as though something were ending beyond her childhood. For a few seconds, her eyes came to rest on a young man who would always be the love of her life. He was talking to his best friend, not a care in the world. Her gaze lingered on Arnold Short, wishing there was something she could do to make him notice her. Fruitless to pine over him, she knew all too well. She had finally given up hope when he had started dating Rhonda Lloyd near the beginning of their junior year. However, her chances had been restored when the princess and the pauper had broken up only six weeks earlier. There was still a chance, her heart kept whispering to her. But she still couldn't bring herself to take it. Arnold and Rhonda's courtship had been a long one, she couldn't just go walking up and ask him out. He couldn't possibly be ready yet, and she knew that he would be a bit reluctant to accept considering her reputation, regardless of his current emotional state.

"Hi." Helga spoke into the microphone with a modest amount of confidence, but nothing akin to her usual demeanor. "For those of you who don't know me, or don't care to remember, I'm Helga Pataki, chief editor of the school paper. I'm about to do something a little uncharacteristic, so bear with me. There's a special edition that will be passed out at the ceremony tonight. But I guess I wanted to share it with you all like this first. Because trust me, I have no intention of taking center stage later. Like most of you, I'll be at Rhonda's party as soon as I get my sheepskin." Helga smirked. There were some low murmurs in the crowd, but no one seemed to understand where she was going with this. Helga quickly cleared her throat and continued. "Anyway, I just. . .I wanted to present this to you personally. I'm going to recite for you. Because deep down, I think it's how I really feel about things. I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this day. And now that it's here, well, I'm beginning to wonder if I squandered some of these years. But I'm going to let Colin Hay tell you, because he does a far better job than I ever could. I've never been much for sap." _Liar_, Helga thought to herself. She squashed the thought and resisted the urge to look for her heart in the bleachers again. "I'll, um, spare you my pathetic attempts at singing and just read the lyrics like a poem." A small amount of chuckling went up at that, and Helga could've sworn she saw someone in the front row get down on their knees in thanks. She cracked a smile herself before starting.

_"I drink good coffee every morning_

_Comes from a place that's far away_

_And when I'm done I feel like talking_

_Without you hear there is less to say_

_I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy_

_What is closer to the truth_

_That if I lived 'til I was a hundred and two  
_

_ I just don't think I'll ever get over you_

_I'm no longer moved to drink strong whiskey_

_I shook the hand of time and I knew_

_That if I lived 'til I could no longer climb my stairs_

_I just don't think I'll ever get over you_

_Your face it dances and it haunts me_

_Your laughter's still ringing in my ears_

_I still find pieces of your presence here_

_Even, even after all this years_

_But I don't want you thinking that I don't get asked to dinner_

_'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do_

_Even though I may soon feel the touch of love_

_I just don't think I'll ever get over you_

_If I lived 'til I was a hundred and two_

_I just don't think I'll ever get over you"_

She took a step back, lingering on Arnold for another few seconds. He might have caught her gaze. In that moment, she didn't mind. "Thank you." Helga spoke softly. She walked away from the podium with little fanfare and out a side door before anyone had time to noticeably react.

No one else moved to begin the next part of the proceedings, finally, one of the teachers who had been sitting on the lowest bench of a nearby bleacher away trotted over to the microphone. "You are all dismissed to your seventh period classes." He said shakily. His words broke the spell, and reality resumed for H.S. 118's graduating class.

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_Hello, Strangers!_ By Ginger Foutley

_Okay, fair warning. I'm having a long night here. Guess I've got a lot to say. I just wanted you to know that as I type this out, I'm working on my fourth Rum and Coke, so I should probably be taken with a grain of salt._

_So here I am up in the attic, shifting boxes around to find all of Carl's stuff we locked away up here. Of course, the problem is that I'm not really working all that hard at it. I keep coming across boxes of my own up here, and I have to stop and open them all and see what parts of my childhood I left behind. It's kind of ironic when you get right down to it. The things that practically encompass the scope of your entire existence when you're five years old can get packed into folded cardboard, sealed with packaging tape, and left in a dark, lonely space for years and years at a time. But when you rediscover them again, it's almost as though you can't bear to look away. They evoke all these memories in you. And suddenly, you find yourself wondering where your childhood went. Right now, I'd like to get it all back, if only for a little while. Those days when you were so young, you carried a stuffed animal with you and watched cartoons, played make believe and dress up. Oh come on, don't get embarrassed, you know you used to do it. We were all young once. On my better days, I'm still young at heart, that's what matters. _

_And the toys! Can't forget about the toys! I wish I could still look at them with the same wonder and amazement I had as a child. It's just not the same looking back. You're whole perspective is changed, jaded. The real world has beat us all into submission. Listen to me, droning on about how terrible the world is. And I've barely even started my life! What's going to happen to me when I'm middle-aged? _

_But in front of me is the life of a girl. There's ponies and flower patterns and everything pastel. Some of it might come in handy if I ever have a girl of my own someday. But there are things I can't ever give away. Like my baby blanket, it's really important to me. Sometimes, when things get really bad, I curl up with it. I remember one night in my junior year of high school, I was home alone. Darren and I had had a really bad fight (we were in our on again, off again stage that lasted for about six or seven years). Mom and Carl were out, and there I was, balled up on the couch with my little blanket. It even smelled like baby powder. So I'm lying there, drinking hot chocolate and watching "Some Kind Of Wonderful" and trying to forget about the stupidity of men for awhile, when my brother Carl comes home early. He takes one long look at me and draws an unflattering comparison to Linus Van Pelt. I wasn't very appreciative of his joke at the time, but now I understand what he was talking about. And deep down, I think that this old blanket has something to do with my own security. I guess I need it. It did its fair share of protecting me from the American Schoolyard when I was still just a girl. Oh, that's right; you can't ever escape the horrors of the American Schoolyard._

_The schoolyard will hold you captive for all your years. See, everyday life contains the same rules and politics that we learn at recess in first grade. Some people are more popular than others, and we're more or less at their mercy. These are the people who labeled you by the end of your first week in grade school. So what were you? A jock? A nerd? A geek? Teacher's pet? Popular? Regular? Outcast? Bully? Toadie? Victim? I like to think I was just a regular girl myself. Until I hooked up with my friends in second grade, I was just kind of there. I didn't have any friends or enemies. I wasn't an outcast but I wasn't excepted. It's like I was a little of everything and a little of nothing. When I got older, I was technically a geek. I focused on science and English, I had the ear of many a teacher. But I didn't develop much of a reputation until I became the acquaintance (not to mention pet project) of Courtney Gripling. To this day, I still don't entirely understand a relationship. At different times, we've both gone farther for each other than we have for our best friends. And yet, we're not really friends, I guess. It's weird. No, it isn't. It's the playground. We're not from the same world, the same caste. I don't think we're allowed to be friends. It's just the way society works. But these are the barriers we are taught to create at so young an age. And though celebrities and politicians and revolutionaries talk big about breaking down those very barriers, we all know that they're full of crap. We're all too scared to pull them down, because then our entire society might fall apart. And until we overcome our cowardice; allow ourselves to think differently, to love one another, then nothing will ever change._

_Remember that box I was going through? One of my ponies is dead. I guess the edge of this box was in the beam of sunlight that flows through our attic. Too hot up there during the summer, the poor thing was way at the bottom of the box, half melted and looking up at me with one eye, as though I had failed it. I used a butter knife to cut it free of the cardboard and cradled it in my hands for a moment. And I started crying. Is that crazy? It was just a hunk of plastic, wasn't it? Or did that pony really have a soul? I brought it downstairs to show my mother, and she screamed. Because when I held that pony out to her, my hand was covered in blood. I thought I had managed to cut myself with the knife somehow, so I ran to the sink and washed up. And when she came over to examine me to see if I had been seriously hurt, she couldn't find a single cut. Not even a scratch or a nick. I ran back upstairs and tore through the box, looking for something, anything to explain what had happened. But everything was as I had left it, no blood or paint or anything that would account for the blood. I tore downstairs one last time and cradled my childhood friend in my hand. Just a lump of melted purple plastic and golden blonde hair, that one eye staring up at me, asking why. I haven't been able to stop the tears yet. And for the record, this would be why I'm on my fourth. . .whoops, make that fifth Rum and Coke. I know that I'm mad. I must truly be going out of my mind._

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"So, you first noticed her on the last day of school?" Rhonda quirked an eyebrow as she uncorked a bottle of port wine, apparently her weapon of choice to loosen Arnold's tongue. Not that he had expected much different. She had warned him when they were on the phone. She poured two glasses, handing one to him. He took it in his hands, swirling the liquid in the glass before taking a deep gulp, polishing off the glass entirely too quickly. Rhonda frowned at him, her family had taught him much better than that. True, technically Arnold was too young to be drinking, but his mind craved some way to dull the emotional pain he was feeling. Rhonda always seemed to know just what to do. Then again, she should. She knew him better than any other woman. She was amazing, far more tender and nurturing than he could recall her acting in elementary and middle school. But somewhere along the line, she had matured. Rhonda was still every part the rich girl, but she was no longer spoiled and overly pampered like when she was a child. She had gotten a bigger picture of the real world, and found herself needing fulfillment beyond material goods. But that wasn't what had made Arnold warm up to her in the first place, nor was it the fact that she was the sexiest girl in high school, everyone's favorite fantasy. It had been one afternoon when the two of them were sitting next to each other on a bus. Nothing special, they had simply talked for awhile. They weren't generally in the same social circle, but they fell in together very naturally. Before getting off at her stop, Rhonda had provided her phone number. Three days later, feeling nervous, Arnold called and asked her to go out for coffee. She consented, and they had quickly become a couple. These days, things were different. They had broken up less only five months ago. Amicably, because they felt that while they had a lot of fun, they weren't in love. Arnold was grateful things had worked out as they did, because Rhonda was so easy to talk to. She comforted him, almost like a mother. So much could pass between them without ever exchanging a word. It was a unique relationship, and Arnold hoped it would continue for a long time.

Rhonda poured Arnold a second glass, giving him a look that advised him not to swallow this one entirely. He nodded once, taking a mere sip before setting the glass down on the coffee table in front of him. "Yeah, I think I did." He smirked. "It was strange, kind of haunting. I don't think I'd ever seen that side of Helga in my entire life. I didn't even know she had that side."

"Most people do, but sharing it is another matter entirely."

"There were other barriers too."

"Like what?" Rhonda smirked.

"Well, for starters, we had only just broken up a few weeks before. I don't know if I was ready to get back into the whole scene yet. I was pretty comfortable being with you, it wasn't easy to walk away from all that."

Rhonda nodded. "I guess we both should've held our tongues and let things slide until after the graduation. But neither of us are the type of people who tend to do that sort of thing."

"You're right about that. Anyway, even if that wasn't an issue, there's still the fact that I barely knew who she was. She was just another person I'd pass in the hallway and say hello to. We were barely acquaintances!"

"Well, she certainly knew you, didn't she?"

"No denying that." Arnold agreed. "She had my number down cold."

Rhonda stood up and walked across the room to a dirty window, parting the dingy curtains and throwing it open to let some cool, fresh air into the apartment. Arnold watched her as she manipulated the wood and glass, her butt lifting upwards almost irresistibly, long legs swaying with her gait that had even put Helga's to shame. Scowling to himself, Arnold shook his head and took a deeper hit from the port. He hadn't even gotten very physical with Rhonda when they were an item, there certainly wasn't any point to lusting after her now.

As a cool breeze began to circulate through the room, Rhonda smiled and let her hair blow out slightly. "So maybe you can tell me exactly what happened at my graduation party. At least, what you remember of it." She smirked.

"That's kind of a crazy story." Arnold rolled his eyes. "I'm still not exactly sure of everything that happened myself, but I do remember it was a great party. Still, I can't help but wonder what would've happened if Gerald hadn't persuaded me to go. . ."

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Wow, that took longer to write than I had thought. But it was fun, there's not a single part I'm displeased with. I tried to jump around a bit to give all my readers different perspectives. And I did finally get around to including Helga, although I've found myself shying away from her a bit lately. I think it's because I have a lot to do with her later, and I have this very specific picture I want to paint of her, so I'm trying not to play with her too much during the expository chapters.

I feel that this story has something of a unique format. It certainly isn't the first of its kind, but I feel that utilizing flashback helps paint a better picture of who these characters are in this tale. It also creates a different kind of suspense and opens more fan speculation. Here, the mystery isn't what is going to happen, it's more a case of how did it happen? Nevertheless, there are still lots of stops to make along the way. The scenes with Arnold and Rhonda paint a picture of the station the story will be arriving at, but it says little of the route I'll be taking you there by.

I'm glad to see that overall, people seem to enjoy the asides I put in from Ginger Foutley. To answer a few questions about that, it's an idea I came up with while in the middle of the creative process. I decided against using a different character from _Hey Arnold_, because I couldn't find anyone I liked. Helga is probably the most literary person on the show, and I really couldn't use her for this kind of thing. And I was against using any of the adult characters. Furthermore, I believe that putting yourself into your own story is just a fanfiction faux pas. I went with Ginger because I feel she best fits the bill. Because both shows are essentially about people being people, I feel they merge nicely. However, I would not classify this as a crossover. While the columns from Ginger Foutley will continue, you won't be seeing them every chapter, and the story isn't suddenly going to shift to Sheltered Shrubs, Connecticut. If I feel I have an _As Told By Ginger_ story that just has to be told, I'll write a dedicated fanfic for it, promise.

I'm also very pleased that many of you seem to like my portrayal of Rhonda in this story. I assumed I would take heat by making her so much less shallow, but just the opposite is happening. I've always felt that Rhonda Lloyd could be a complex and three dimensional character, but that she really wasn't given that chance on the show. You'll be discovering more about her through the scenes that take place in the "present," so I hope you'll enjoy the different directions I take her character along.

Lastly, I just want to thank you all for coming out and giving this story a strong opening as far as reviews goes. I was ecstatic to see so many people taking time out of their day to give me details and what they liked or didn't like, and generally why they enjoyed it. Let me assure you; that sort of thing is very satisfying to me as an author. If you think I don't want your opinion on something, trust me, I do. Even if you don't like it, that's okay. What matters is that I know why you don't like it. On the flip side, I really like to know what you enjoy about my writing. Most of you wrote in to tell me exactly that, and I hope that you'll continue. I believe in giving the people what they want. And if I really disagree with the public, then I do my best to bring them around to my way of thinking.

So, if you can't tell where I'm going with this, leave a review. As always, feel free to send me your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

06/20/05

5:03 AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	3. Not Your Average Kind Of Love

Not Your Average Kind Of Love

As Arnold and Gerald stood on the expansive front porch of the Lloyd household, they peered inside to see the place decorated to the hilt. Gerald wasn't certain, but he thought he could see the shadow of a disco ball turning in one of the larger rooms. It was obvious to anyone with an eye for décor that the entire affair had been carefully planned out. Every detail had been methodically seen to.

"I don't know about this, Gerald." Arnold sighed. "Maybe I'm not ready for a party just yet. It isn't the kind of scene you can ease back into easily. I mean, I wasn't exactly the life of the ball at the prom, you know."

Gerald shook his head in annoyance. "You have been in like a constant state of depression ever since you and Rhonda broke up. Now it's pretty obvious to me that something big obviously went down there that you don't want to tell me about. And I've gotta admit that as your best friend, that hurts. But I've been respecting your space. It's your business, I get that. But it's my job to get you out of your funk. Now, we're going to Rhonda's party, and you will have a good time! Is that clear!"

"But Gerald, I just don't think-"

"No arguments!"

The spirited conversation was timely interrupted by the appearance of their hostess, Miss Rhonda Lloyd herself. She ushered them inside. "Arnold! You look wonderful!" Rhonda squeezed her old flame tightly. "How I've missed you! And Gerald, so good of you to come. I might've known you two would show up together."

"Enchante, my dear." Gerald lightly took Rhonda's hand after she and Arnold disengaged. He gently brought it to his lips and lifted an eyebrow.

"Well, your manners are certainly stronger than I recall. I do believe you might earn yourself a better reputation with the ladies than Sid himself if you keep it up."

"Perhaps, Mademoiselle, but let me assure you that I only have eyes for you." Gerald bowed to her. Now it was Arnold's turn to raise an eyebrow as he detected a faint blush on Rhonda's cheeks.

"So where is Phoebe, if you don't mind my asking?" Rhonda inquired.

"Oh, you know, she has this thing going on at her house tonight, family party. I would've gone, but you know how much her dad and I love each other." Gerald rolled his eyes to make his point. "It's cool, she promised she would make it later tonight. This party might not end until daybreak, anyway."

"It won't if I have anything to say about it." Rhonda grinned.

"Man, this place looks great!" Gerald exclaimed, fully taking in the atmosphere as Rhonda ushered them into her home.

"Why thank you!" Rhonda beamed now, clearly in her element. She adjusted the mortarboard on her head, still fresh from that evening's ceremony. Unable to get it to sit just right, she finally removed it altogether, opting instead to playfully fix the graduation cap on Arnold's head, easily done since she had a few inches on him. She shook her head slightly, causing her long, raven black tresses to cascade down her back like a waterfall. "Daddy said I should send us all off with style. And there's no such thing as too much style."

"Rhonda, I'd say you've got that covered in spades." Gerald flashed her his best smile.

"Thanks. And if you don't mind me saying, style seems to be something you're pretty keen on."

"I've been known to keep up with a trend or two."

"I've got a new arrival in my wardrobe from Milan. Why don't you come up to my room and I'll show it to you, it's to die for!" Rhonda winked at him.

"Sounds good! Let's get going before this party gets too wild."

Arnold watched as his best friend and his girlfriend went running off. "Did I just miss something?" He wondered aloud.

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A little over an hour later, Arnold had finished making the rounds at the party, and there was still no sign of his best friend or the hostess. He was beginning to get a bad feeling about this, but what was he supposed to do, run upstairs and barge in on who knows what might be happening? No. Arnold shook his head. It wasn't like that. Gerald and Phoebe were too tight, and Rhonda was by no means easy.

Everyone else seemed to be having a great time. Sid was hanging out with Stinky and Harold, apparently acting as some kind of mastermind. All three of them had come alone, and according to Sid, he expected them all to go home with someone that night. Arnold himself wasn't so sure of their chances, but he wished them well anyway. Arnold held no such plans of his own. His own goals were more simplistic—get through the night without being a wallflower.

After finally managing to disengage himself from a tiring conversation with Eugene about his summer stock plans, Arnold found himself in the quiet kitchen, seeking a bit of solitude. Much to his surprise, he came across someone apparently doing the same thing. "Helga? I didn't know you were here."

Helga had been standing over the sink, hand washing dishes. The sound of her name, or more specifically, the sound of her name carried by Arnold's voice, made her entire body go rigid. She shuddered involuntarily, and her mind silently cried out to a God she considered very cruel. Finally, she spoke, for fear he would get weirded out and leave her alone. "Hey Football Head, how's it going?"

"Not so good, I'm afraid." Arnold sighed.

"Yeah, I hear that." Helga kept at her washing, keeping her hands busy. It helped.

"So, uh, that was a nice speech you gave this afternoon."

"I didn't exactly do a lot of talking. I guess I just. . .had something I wanted to say. Haven't you ever had something you wanted to get off your chest?"

"Too often."

"Well, I've had a lot I've wanted to say for years, Arnoldo."

"Want some help?"

"You're missing the party." Helga scoffed.

"So we'll have our own party in here."

"I don't think Rhonda would approve."

"Don't be so sure. I have my ways with her."

"Yes. I've noticed." Arnold wasn't sure, but the girl looked rather menacing, the way she scrubbed at a large meat cleaver while making the remark. "So spill. What're you doing in here?"

"I was looking for the punch."

"It's gone already? You've got to be kidding me? What is everyone doing? Swimming in it?"

"It's good punch, Helga." Arnold tried to explain.

"It should be. I made it."

"Why are you hanging in the kitchen? Are you the catering service or something?"

"No. Not that it's any of your business. I'm just bored. I'm not much for dancing. I don't have anyone to slow dance with. I don't exactly fit in with Rhonda's crowd. So, I guess I'm doing what I do best." Helga shut the water off and wiped her hands on the long white apron that was protecting her silken pink dress. "Okay, fine, you want to help? Fetch me the empty bowl. We'll make another batch."

"You've got it." Arnold smiled, stepping back out the swinging door.

Immediately after he left, Helga reached deep into her dress and pulled out a familiar keepsake, bracing herself against the counter so she wouldn't swoon and fall over. "Oh, Arnold, what fate has brought you to this lowly end? That you should spend the social event of the season in the company of such an unfortunate as I! How I pray that for once, we might have a chance to know one another, one last chance to learn that maybe we aren't so different." As though she were psychic, Helga replaced the locket in its intimate hiding spot against her heart just as Arnold came back through the door, bearing the indeed empty punchbowl. "Bunch of savages in this class." Helga shook her head from side to side, opening the refrigerator to see what she could whip up. "Man, the Princess sure keeps the kitchen stocked."

"It's probably the chef who sees to that. I wonder where he is, anyway?"

"Rhonda gave all the staff the night off. Can't say I blame her. This party is the social event of the season, after all. She doesn't want any witnesses that are on her parents' payroll."

"Makes sense." Arnold nodded.

Helga turned around, removing a bottle of lemon juice from the fridge along with an oversized container of hand made fruit punch. "Let's see, maybe if they have any vanilla ice cream. . ." She muttered.

"Um, won't the lemon juice curdle the ice cream?"

"Oh, right. Ok, no lemon juice then." Helga quickly put the offending bottle back into the fridge. "So now what am I supposed to do? This container of punch is so not going to cut it."

"Water it down and add sugar. That's what my grandma always does."

"I normally prefer a more elegant solution, but beggars can't be choosers." Helga returned yet again to the refrigerator, this time retrieving several bottles of Evian water. "Ok, this ought to cover it. I hope they don't mind our dipping into their secret stash of elitist water."

"You could just get it from the tap."

"Are you stupid or something, Hair Boy? If Rhonda found out I even dared to serve something like that, she'd run me out of here so fast my head would spin! My social standing can't take a snub like that these days."

"That's funny, the Helga I knew never used to care about that kind of stuff."

"Yeah, well, we stopped knowing each other a long time ago."

"Oh come on, Helga, we were never really friends. You never had any interest in me when we were kids."

"That was part of our deal! I did mean things to you, and you ignored them and were nice to me anyway. You were the one who stopped trying!"

"I guess I finally got the message." Arnold shrugged. "Or I just stopped being so stubborn."

"Right." Helga rolled her eyes.

Arnold stepped back and cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward. Helga obviously felt the same way, because she turned her full attention to the bowl, pouring in the fruit concoction and adding water one bottle at a time, tempered with sugar, trying to make sure it didn't become too obvious a scam.

"There!" Helga allowed herself a smile of satisfaction as she finished her latest masterpiece. "Can I cook or what?"

"I don't know, I've never tasted your cooking. Maybe I should go with what." Arnold chuckled.

"And you wonder why Rhonda broke it off with you?" Helga chided sarcastically, shaking her head back and forth. "You never did know how to compliment a lady."

"I don't claim to have known how." Arnold acknowledged. "You want me to help you carry that out?"

"Help me? No thanks, I think I'll let you carry it all by yourself. If you want to be helpful, you could untie this apron. Sid isn't around to do it for me."

"As you wish, my lady."

Helga groaned. "Just don't go getting any funny ideas, all right?"

"I'll try to restrain myself." Arnold smirked. Helga turned her back to him, and Arnold gently pulled on one string, unknotting the bowed fabric. Helga allowed the apron to drop slightly, catching it in one hand and folding it. The silk that comprised her long pink dress seemed to bounce as it was freed of the restraining protective garment. For the first time, Arnold noticed that the dress was stylish, leaving bare shoulders and an open back. This surprised him, because Helga usually went in for the modest approach when it came to her attire. Or perhaps she hadn't changed so much. Her outfit was rather high cut in the front, certainly designed to leave plenty to the imagination. Still, when Arnold took in Helga's entire presence, an effect that was heightened as she turned around and half-tossed her hair, he couldn't help but smile. "Wow, Helga, you clean up good!" Arnold remarked, genuinely impressed.

"I'm glad you approve."

"No, I'm serious. I never knew you had it in you. This is going to sound kind of silly, but I almost expected you to be wearing that old pink dress you used to favor. You know, the one you used to wear over the white shirt?"

"That would've been quite a feat, considering I haven't fit into it in about seven years."

"Yeah, that would've been pretty silly." Arnold wiped his brow anxiously, realizing he had just said something very childish. "Really, I think this is an improvement."

"Bob would prefer I wear something a little flashier. He's been on a kick for the last month or so. I think he's hoping I'll get married instead of going to college so he won't have to pay for my education. After all, he's still paying for Olga's. Even if she did get by mostly on scholarships."

"Are you serious?"

"I don't know." Helga sighed. "I never know with him." She let out a breath, then her brow furrowed in annoyance. "Why am I telling you this crap anyway?"

"I just have one of those faces, I guess."

"Yeah, if you like football heads." Helga scoffed. "I suppose it doesn't really matter much. This is pretty much it. The old gang is breaking up. What's left of it, anyway."

"A lot of us are still together, Helga. Gerald and I are still friends. You and Phoebe still hang out sometimes, I hear from Gerald. Those two are still an item. Rhonda and I broke up, but we're still friends. And Sid and Stinky and Harold are still the troublemakers. Not that Harold or Stinky could ever hold a candle to Sid's charm with the ladies."

"Ah, you're just sore because he managed to hook Lila for awhile and you never could."

"I gave up on her in junior high." Arnold sighed wistfully.

"And what did it get you? You should've kept at her, you might've had your shot. Instead you let Sid move in."

"Hey, I had Rhonda, don't forget. Maybe you know her, the most sought after girl in our entire class?"

"How nice for you." Helga said coldly, opening a cupboard and withdrawing two glasses.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"Whatever. Let's just skip it."

"No really, I shouldn't have put it like that."

"Criminey! Are you trying to piss me off or something! I said to forget it!" Helga roared, her grip tightening around the glasses. With great effort, She set them on the counter, taking several deep breaths. "Maybe I'm the one who should apologize."

"It's okay, you don't have to."

Helga shut her eyes tightly and kept her back to him, not wanting to let him see any tears she was fighting off. Why was it always so difficult to accept simple kindness from him? Taking one last deep breath, she blinked her eyes rapidly to make sure she was presentable before turning around. "Alright then." She removed the scoop from the punchbowl and used it to spoon two full glasses for them. "Why don't you go ahead and put this back out for everyone else?"

"All right. Wait here, I'll be right back, okay?" Arnold pleaded more than asked.

"I don't have anywhere else to be." Helga nodded.

Very carefully, Arnold lifted the bowl and took slow, measured steps back out where the party was in full swing. She held the swinging door open for him as he left. She watched him for several long, eternal seconds before finally turning back to the sanctuary of the kitchen.

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Gerald took in the scope of Rhonda's room again and again as she changed behind a long, folded oriental screen. The room was full of mirrors and several certificates of her accomplishments. The curtains couldn't have been made in this country, the lace was too intricate, something hand made. And the four post bed! It was amazing! Gerald had never seen a bed so large. He wondered how he could ever go back to sleeping on his twin sized mattress after knowing such a palatial bed exists.

Rhonda stepped out from behind the screen in a flowing yellow gown, turning around to give Gerald a full look. "This one's just in from Milan" She grinned. "I've been waiting for a really hot day. I wasn't too sure about the yellow, but I really felt I've done too much red. Maybe it's time for me to shake the scene up a bit.

"Hey, you've always been easy on the eye in my opinion."

"I'll be sure to let Phoebe know." Rhonda chided. "And allow me to say that I'm impressed with your courtship. It's not typical for childhood sweethearts like yourselves to stay together for so long. Does this mean you have some big plans now that high school is over? A diamond, perhaps?"

"I wouldn't take it that far." Gerald held a hand up to stop her. "I mean, being with Phoebe is great, don't get me wrong. But I don't know what the future holds for us. We haven't talked about stuff that far ahead just yet. I don't know if I could even bring it up with her. I mean, Phoebe's got a lot of college stuff going on, not to mention all the other stuff she's involved with, and her family keeps her under a lot of pressure too. It wouldn't be very fair of me to put such a huge expectation on her."

"So do you think you're headed for a breakup?"

"Why, you interested?" Gerald cocked an eyebrow at his host. "Seriously though, I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. I couldn't even imagine life without Phoebe. She's really. . .uplifting, I guess. Like when I'm feeling really down, she'll call me or send me something or just come over and. . .well, I remember my father told me that there are countless women in the world, but when you find a good one, you'd better hold onto her."

"Well said." Rhonda replied softly. She sat down in an old wooden desk chair, turning it around so she could rest her arms on the back. "You have to promise never to tell Arnold this, but I sometimes wonder if I'll ever find a good guy again after Arnold."

"There's plenty of fish in the sea, girl. You shouldn't be so concerned about it. I mean, not to put a point on it, but you are rich."

"That's what I worry about. I don't want to end up as some trophy wife. Or go out with some guy who's just looking for a meal ticket. Arnold was never like that."

"He did spend an awful lot of time with you while you two were going out. Sometimes I felt like I hardly saw him anymore." Gerald nodded.

"You know better than I what it's like to be in a relationship. Especially one that is more than casual." Rhonda suggested.

"True that. But he hasn't been himself since you guys ended. It's like. . .I don't know, it doesn't seem like he's hung up on you, more like he's just afraid of getting back in the game. I don't really know what to tell him. When you're as tight as Phoebe and me, we make it look easy."

"Give him some time. He'll come around. You know Arnold, he's always one to look on the bright side." Rhonda affirmed.

"Right. But I still hope that he'll find the right girl for him in a hurry. Wouldn't it be something if he could hook up with someone at this party?

"I couldn't imagine it happening to a better person."

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Helga felt as though she were going to vomit as she quickly removed the small vial from the same pocket she stored her locket in, emptying it into Arnold's waiting glass and stirring the beverage rapidly. She had no doubt that if hell existed, she would have a VIP room. But it was too late to back down now. Everything had already been set into motion. Her check had already cleared with the landlord, she now officially had a place of her own. And Bob's coveted Platinum card was stashed in her car, it had more than enough credit to cover any expenses that might crop up over the next day or two. She even had a dress secured in the trunk of the car. Not the prettiest anyone had ever seen, but it would certainly work well under the conditions she was expecting. Arnold was the last piece of the puzzle, the one she had been waiting on for so many years.

Sighing uneasily to herself, Helga opened the cupboard door underneath the sink, burying the now empty vial under several other pieces of garbage so it wouldn't be detected. "If only there was some other way." Helga whispered. But that, of course, was hopeless thinking. She had figured out years ago that she would never work her way into his heart, even if she started from scratch and presented a completely new and improved Helga. No, any hope of that had been squandered in her youth. Thanks to her foolish actions when she was still a child, she had managed to eradicate any chance that Arnold could look at her as a woman. She would always just be Helga to him. Never potential relationship material.

True to his word, Arnold returned, looking pleased with himself. "I didn't spill a single drop. That's got to be worth something."

"Want me to run home and pinch one of Olga's trophies for you?" Helga chided.

"Ah, we'll skip the formal ceremonies this time."

"Mercifully. So, what exactly are your plans this summer?"

"Mostly getting ready for college. I'm taking off in two weeks. I had thought about staying here until late August and being all sentimental with the rest of the gang, but then I figured we'd all be so busy anyway. Besides, there's tons of stuff to do in L.A. I'm gonna take in the sights, get acquainted with the place, try and make some friends before classes start in the fall. What about you?"

_Of course._Helga thought to herself. _Why did I think it would be any different? He's leaving me, just like everyone else leaves. Well, no matter bucko. You won't be going anywhere now. You're mine! _"Oh, you know, nothing special." Helga responded. I've decided to take a little time off from school, I think I'll start in January. I'm just going to focus on finding a decent job and bringing in some decent money to live in while I'm in college. I figure if I can work for 6 months and mooch off Bob at least until my semester starts, I should end up with enough money to get me through at least a semester. Maybe more if I watch my finances. Anyway, I guess I'll be the one watching everyone else go off."

"I hope it works out for you."

"I'm not worried. Somehow, I know that everything is going to unfold exactly as it should." Helga grinned, raising her glass off the counter and offering the doctored drink to her companion.

"To the future we deserve." Arnold accepted the glass, raising it in a toast.

"Now that's something I can drink to." Helga joined him, lightly clicking her own glass against Arnold's before imbibing.

Arnold joined her in the drink, impressed with the work. For something that had been considerably watered down, it still had quite a bit of flavor.

"Hey, this is pretty good. Looks like my grandma's trick worked just fine."

Helga knocked back the entire glass, setting it down on the counter. "Yeah, it'll sell all right. I tell you Arnold, it's tough work to be a caterer."

"I didn't know this was your day job." Arnold grinned, polishing off his glass.

"It isn't. I'm just not much good at parties."

"You seem to be doing alright."

"I get by." Helga acknowledged.

"So what was it like-" Without warning, Arnold descended into a coughing fit, his glass falling out of his hands and breaking into pieces on the floor. Helga furrowed her brow, hoping that the worst would pass quickly. She feigned ignorance for the meantime. "Arnold! Are you all right! What's happening!" The coughing spasm continued, and Arnold could feel his vision beginning to blur. He staggered towards Helga, looking for support. Helga watched him carefully noting the way his eyes had trouble focusing. The drug was working, just as predicted. Helga moved closer to her love, wrapping an arm around him and tilting his head up to her own. "Hush now, sweet prince. How I wish it didn't have to be this way. Please baby, don't fight it. Just take the ride."

"Helga? What. . .have you. . .done. . .to me?" Arnold managed to choke out between coughs.

"Don't struggle, it only makes things worse."

"Why?" Arnold managed to choke out as he unwillingly fell against Helga, who instantly embraced him.

"Because you forgot about me so easily. Surely you remember that little girl who kissed you on that cold, windy night eight years ago. The night we stopped the bulldozers. But you did. You forgot about me, you sent me on my way and you never looked back. But I have. Every day of my long, lonely life I've looked back at you. Watching you give your heart to women who could never treasure it as I would. Watching you parade around with Princess Rhonda Lloyd while I worked on the school paper. Watching you trade away my feelings, the purity of my own emotions, for a love so average and mundane. I have loved you from afar all the days of my life, praying for you to remember me. To look at me. I never cared what anyone else thought, not for a moment. The entire world can judge me as an abomination if you could look upon me and see something beautiful. But you never have. And now you think you're going to just walk out of my life and barely say goodbye? No, Arnold. I'm afraid I'm just not willing to let go of you yet. You will NOT rob me of my birthright, my very heart and soul! I will not allow it! This time, things are going to be different. I've been falling for you my entire life." Helga cradled him as she had always imagined, the most precious thing in the world, tousling his hair, feeling the consistency, the inexplicable rapture that came from being so close to her heart's only desire. "This time, you're going to fall for me."

"You're. . .insane. . ." Arnold whimpered, sliding downward, trying desperately to stop himself but unable to even struggle. His body was like Jello. Helga lowered herself with him, his head half propped against her chest.

"Am I?" Helga blinked, truly considering Arnold's accusation, frightened at the implications. "I've often suspected the same thing. Hush now, just breathe deep and let the medicine do its work." She kissed him longingly, as though marking her territory. "There now. That wasn't so terrible, was it?" Helga asked. Arnold's head slowly lolled to the side and he was gone. Completely unconscious, and at her mercy.

Helga gently laid Arnold's head in her lap as he passed out, savoring the feel of his warmth against her. It took some effort to drag herself away, but she knew there was one more necessary step to render the deception complete. Carefully, she extracted herself from Arnold's form and allowed his head to rest on the floor. Helga drew herself to a standing position, purposely ruffling her dress to give her a more distraught look. Then, breathing deeply, she summed up one of the loudest, most girlish screams she had let out in a very long time. It was enough to make the one intact glass fracture. Several people came running as they saw what had happened. Sid arrived first, never one to pass up a damsel in distress. His two "henchmen" followed, and other guests began to crowd around the door.

Sid shook Helga to bring her back to reality, just as Rhonda entered the room with Gerald in tow. "What happened in here?" Rhonda demanded. "You're disturbing the guests."

"It's Arnold." Sid gestured. "Helga was screaming. What happened, Helga?"

"I-I dunno! Arnold and I were just making punch, we set it out there long ago. He came back in and we were talking about this summer, and he just collapsed on the floor like a ton of bricks. I thought he was having a heart attack or an aneurism or something, and I just freaked out!"

"He's breathing." Sid confirmed, dabbing his index finger in his mouth and holding it over Arnold's lips.

"This doesn't make any sense." Stinky drawled. "Arnold's always been healthy as a horse."

"Yeah, and he could eat a lot too!" Harold offered.

"Somebody do something!" Rhonda insisted

Gerald pushed through the crowd. "Maybe he's just passed out." Gerald did his best to wake his friend, opening his eyes, slapping his face a little, but nothing stirred the young man. "Okay, this isn't funny. Somebody's got to call an ambulance."

"No." Helga said quietly. "I'll take him, no reason to ruin the whole party."

"If it's all the same , I'd rather go with you." Gerald persisted.

"For what? You'll just slow me down! Besides, they're just going to ask a bunch of questions you can't answer. I was the only one with him when this happened. Look, it's no big deal. I'll take him down, fill out their tedious little forms, let them interview me, and keep you posted when they have a diagnosis. If it's anything serious, I'll phone you right away."

"That's not the point. He's my best friend."

"I know. But think of it from this point. What would Arnold want? You know there's nothing you can do for him. If you all cancel the party, it'll just make him feel bad when he wakes up. And what about Phoebe? She's been waiting for this party for like a month, are you going to bail on MY best friend?"

"She has a point." Rhonda sighed. "Okay, Helga, I don't know why, but I'm going to trust your better judgment on this one. You take him. And don't make any stops on the way!"

"Done."

"And you'd better call the second you know anything, because if I haven't heard from you in an hour, I swear I'm coming down there myself, party be damned."

"I'll call you as soon as they admit him." Helga nodded.

"Alright then. Gerald, you notify everyone else. Maybe you could tell us some amusing anecdotes about Arnold while we wait for the good news. I know I have a few."

"Fine. But I'm going down there once Phoebe shows up, fair warning." Gerald sighed.

Helga bent down and gingerly lifted Arnold off the ground, wrapping one hand around his back and the other underneath his knees. "Um, can somebody get the door?"

There was a race to move aside as Helga moved forward, kicking the swinging door with one foot and dodging dancing couples who hadn't been impressed with her scream. She stepped through the front door and down the steps, walking down the sidewalk until she reached her car. She carefully propped Arnold into the passenger seat and buckled him in, then moved to the driver's side and got in herself. After fishing the keys out of her the glove compartment, Helga started the car and gunned out of the parking space, determined to get out of Dodge before she was followed by any more of Arnold's clingy friends. She had come entirely too close to give up now.

It would seem, however, that one such person had not. Steadily growing louder from the seat behind her was a sound that had haunted her footsteps since before she could remember. In abject disbelief, Helga swung her rear view mirror to the right, revealing the reflection of Brainy in all his asthmatic glory.

Helga slammed the brakes, nearly sending her car into a spin she pulled to the side of the road, muttering a stream of obscenities. "Brainy! What are you doing here!" Helga shouted, on the verge of losing what was left of her sanity.

Brainy took his time in answering, as was his wont. An endless parade of wheezing breaths was the only response she got, finally followed at length by "Um. . .I dunno. I just-"

"Forget it! I've changed my mind! I don't care just get out!" Helga grabbed the poor boy by the scruff of the neck and pulled him out of the back seat. She pushed him out of her way, got back into the car, and was off again before Brainy could have a chance to get back in. "It's going to be a hard night." Helga groaned as she turned towards the interstate, anxious to put as much distance between herself and Hillwood before anyone realized Arnold had never made it to the hospital. She came to a stoplight half a mile from the onramp and finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Next stop, Vegas!"

"So long, suckers!" Curly called from the seat behind Arnold, looking very expectant.

"Criminey, why is every freak in the class hiding out in my car!"

"I'm not a freak, I'm just eccentric." Curly defended himself. "Now you owe me big time for that little treat that Arnold here seemed to enjoy so much."

"Fine." Helga reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a gold toned piece of plastic. "Miriam's gold card. It's only got a thousand dollars left on it so don't go spending it all at once. On second thought, maybe you'd better, Bob's gonna miss this stuff come the morning."

"Sure thing, hot stuff."

"Curly, I am not, nor will I ever be, your 'hot stuff.' This romantic getaway only has room for two."

"So ditch the dead weight and let's you and me light up the strip, darlin'." Curly insisted.

Helga had had enough. Holding nothing back, she got out of the car, opened the back door, picked Curly up, and physically heaved him into some bushes lining the property of a municipal building. "So what time should I pick you up?" Curly's voice carried even as Helga left him behind and headed for the onramp and glorious freedom.

"Boys are so stupid." Helga quipped. "Present company excluded, of course." Unfortunately, Arnold couldn't respond. "You'll understand when you're older." Helga assured him. The night kept coming and Helga drove into it with no fear.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

"Is that really how it happened?" Rhonda asked, swirling the wine in her glass to activate it a little before taking a sip.

"The parts I can remember. I don't remember being drugged at all, I'm just paraphrasing from what Helga told me about it much later." Arnold replied, leaning back against a cushion.

"You have to give her credit. Her love certainly isn't average. It's crazy. But there's something to be said for mad love."

"The time Helga and I spent together, I mean, after I stopped resisting her and decided to give her a chance. . .I'm inclined to agree she was right. Like when she was holding me, I couldn't remember anything bad in my life. She has the ability to take away pain. Almost like an angel. And you don't need to tell me how absurd that sounds. But maybe that's also part of our problem. Helga and I have come to know and understand each other too well. We know all the right places to stroke each other, but we also know where to stab. And right now, we're both bleeding. I thought we were better than this."

"You have to stop blaming yourself, Arnold. I mean, just because you love someone doesn't mean you can live with them. The girl has a lot of baggage. But it doesn't mean you'll never see her again. Not if she really loves you the way you claim she does."

"I just don't know, Rhonda. Helga can be really, really stubborn."

"Somehow, Arnold, I think that everything will unfold as it should. In my experience, the universe always balances itself out. If you're meant to be with her, you will be."

"I know. But I still feel that I failed her. That I couldn't save her."

"Maybe she didn't want to be saved."

"Maybe that decision wasn't entirely hers to make!" Arnold yelled, feeling angry. He stood up and walked away from Rhonda, already frustrated that he was taking his own shortcomings out on her.

Miss Lloyd, however, would have none of it. She followed him, coming up behind his quivering form and resting her hands on his shoulders. "It's okay." She whispered in his left ear, her arms tenderly wrapping around his neck. "It will be okay, I promise." It was a lie, Rhonda knew. Broken hearts were never easily mended, and even then they were still fragile at best, a sad fact Rhonda was still learning in her own life. Some things money just couldn't make right, but she kept pretending anyway. She was Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, after all, and she had it made.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

Author's Notes

Yeah, I know, this chapter was long. And if it felt on the long side to you, think of how much work it took just writing it. I don't really know how I managed to cover this thing in a week. But looking back, I've done longer stuff. The last chapter to _The Sweet Hereafter_ was far longer than this, and I did it in a week. And I wrote the entirety of _Say You Will _(the original version) in a span of about 30 hours. Maybe I just turn in HA stuff better under pressure.

The length of this chapter can largely be contributed to my wanting to get the story underway. Exposition is important but also stands in the way of real development. This chapter pretty much got all the background stuff out of the way. The writing has definitely been much harder for me. I find myself continuing to shy away from Helga because I have this deep-rooted fear that I'll write _The Sweet Hereafter_ all over again where she is concerned, and that's really not my goal. I'm hoping that fear will dissolve as I'm putting her into a much different situation than I did in TSH. However, I do know that this shift has made my writing somewhat weaker. I don't think that it's bad, just that it lacks some of the punch I was able to deliver with TSH, because for the time being, I'm keeping things in the third person. I expect to do some first person stuff for both Arnold and Helga at different points in the story. One thing I'm sure that anyone who has read my previous HA work can notice is that this story is much more Arnold-centric. I feel it's better for me as an author to work with his character more. Even my next story in the TSH cycle, _Ceremony Of Innocence_, will focus on Arnold's end of the situation. This is me trying to be the best author I can to all of you, so I hope you'll bear with me as I try new things. Rest assured that the storyline for _Instant Gratification_ has not changed at all.

People are still discovering _The Sweet Hereafter_, I've noticed, and it brings me a lot of joy to know that that story isn't dead just because I finished it. I hope that it continues to have a fairly successful afterlife. One complaint that I've seen cropping up of late, though, is that people all of a sudden are saying that they don't like the ending of TSH. I'm not really sure why this is, I'm guessing that perhaps they thought I was building to a sweet, happy ending? I have no clue where anyone would get that idea from. In sooth, the ending I finally stuck to was the fourth one I came up with. The original was something of a happy ending, where Arnold and Helga are eating ice cream together and not really saying anything. I nixed it because I just thought it was too weak for all the writing I went through. The framework of the idea, however, did reappear in _Say You _Will. The second ending was more of a tragedy, where Arnold and Helga briefly become an item, and then Helga breaks up with him because she knows she will only bring Arnold down to her level and ruin what he is. Again, I kicked this one out because I felt there were too many connotations to it, and that people would really hate it. The third ending had a Cinderella-like quality to it, where Helga returns to her usual behavior patterns when the clock strikes midnight. This one called for the two of them to be talking on Arnold's fire escape. I squashed this one because I felt it was a little to fantastic, and it accomplished nothing. At that point, I had to stop and do some major thinking. I went back to all the notes I had taken on Helga's character, really explored who she is as a person. And thus, I refer to the ending that was published as the Helga ending. It's exactly what I felt she would do. I gave her the pieces, but left it up to her to assemble her puzzle, to get her shit together. But I just didn't believe in a happy ending where Helga was concerned, I felt it was contrary to the spirit of her character. So instead, I gave her the formula to make her own happy ending.

I'd like to thank everyone here who read that story back in the day and helped keep me going. There was an era of about two weeks where I was hardly sleeping. I was cramming in an obscene amount of episodes every night in order to build a more perfect fanfic. I think there's only 5 episodes of the series I haven't seen yet, and only three of them have strategic importance. The episodes in question being _Arnold's Christmas_, _Married_, and _The Journal_. Donations are welcome, really!

I'm being long-winded, so I might as well rant a little about the franchise. Everyone else out there has their own opinion, I'm sure, and I hate to find fault with Craig Bartlett and the many other talented individuals responsible for the cartoon. But I'm going to register one complaint, anyway, because it effects me as a fanfic author. I think it was a big mistake to do have Helga make her confession to Arnold in the movie. I know, I know, a lot of people must find that idea blasphemous, but it's just my opinion. When you have a major plot point that's been building since the show's inception, the truth of the matter is that you only get one shot at it. And it's my opinion that the way it happened just wasn't the way it should have been. The whole sequence feels shoehorned into the movie. My point is that I honestly don't believe that this was the way Craig Bartlett wanted it to be, but he compromised on the grounds that it was better to have this than nothing at all. So be it. But unless he ever deigns to tell me otherwise (which I very seriously doubt will happen since I have no connections to the industry), that's going to be my belief. Nevertheless, I follow the canon. Just because I don't like it doesn't mean I'm free to ignore it. It's all part of being a chained God. Wow, did this paragraph sound as pretentious as I think? I'm still going to publish it anyway, what does that say about me?

Did you miss Ginger this chapter? I told you she wouldn't be here every time. I really just couldn't find any room for her, and I don't want her to be a crutch. I expect she'll probably be back in Chapter 5. Maybe next chapter, but I suspect I'll have too much going on again. Some of you won't really miss her anyway, so I guess it's no big deal. But I feel that she really helps my writing and shakes things up a bit.

Okay, anything else I missed? I think that I've gone over far more than I'm entitled to discuss in Author's Notes now. If you couldn't tell, feedback on this chapter is very important to me, so I hope you'll leave some in the manner of your choosing. Reviews are handy, but you'll find my e-mail and AIM info below. Have yourselves a great week, I'll see you back here in seven! And as always, send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

06/27/05

5:43AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	4. Instant Gratification

_Swead__ Entertainment Proudly Presents_

"Hey little sister what have you done? Hey little sister who's the only one? Hey little sister, who's your superman? Hey little sister, who's the one you want? Hey little sister shotgun! It's a nice day to start again. It's a nice day for a white wedding. It's a nice day to start again. Hey little sister who is it you're with? Hey little sister, what's your vice and wish? Hey little sister shotgun, oh yeah. Hey little sister, who's your superman? Hey little sister shotgun! It's a nice day to start again. It's a nice day for a white wedding. It's a nice day to start again!" Helga's voice carried far and wide down the lonely desert road as she passionately crooned the Billy Idol classic. She largely considered it some kind of good omen that some disc jockey was playing so appropriate a theme for her evening. She felt supercharged, like everything was going her way. It hadn't been a storybook evening by any means, but none of that mattered. After fifteen years of waiting, she finally had him all to herself. Nothing could possibly go wrong in her life again, now.

"What's the matter, Arnold? You don't like my singing?" Helga asked, turning in his direction for a moment. Her "suitor," of course, had hardly moved since she had buckled him into his seat nearly four hours ago. He lolled from side to side occasionally on the large turns, but otherwise, Arnold remained in a perfect state of unconsciousness. "Poor baby. I'm sorry about all this, really. Someday, I'm going to make it all up to you. If you play your cards right, I promise to show you a good time when we get to the motel, okay?" Helga ran a palm across his cheek before placing it back on the steering wheel.

_A Lord Malachite Fanfic_

Most of the scenery Helga passed as she made her way through the desert, desperately seeking the city of sin, was dull and uniform. Sand and rocks, little else. Who could possibly want to live out here? This, Helga decided, was even more boring than tea with her grandmother. She had definitely had her fill of the desert, and it was a long night to go. According to the directions she had gotten from AAA, she still had a good two hours of traveling before she would reach her destination, and it was already just after 2AM. Everyone back home was probably freaking by now, Helga held no illusions that by now she had been found out. Not that it would make any difference. No one could possibly have any idea where she and Arnold were. And even if someone did know, her lead was too great. They couldn't possibly stop her in time. She would have a different last name in less than three hours.

In an effort to reach her destination as quickly as possible, Helga pushed her run down red Ford Fiesta, fully flattening her foot on the accelerator. The paint was peeling and it was long past its prime, but the tired automobile still had some life left in it, and it climbed to 87 miles per hour. Not bad, but it made the motor yell pretty loudly. She was probably exceeding the design specifications. She cursed and slowly let off some of the gas, backing down to 73. That cheapskate Bob, he couldn't be bothered to by her a decent car. She wasn't greedy, she would've settled for a simple Honda or Toyota. But no, Bob had to get her the cheapest thing on the lot, when her family was firmly established in the upper middle class. Maybe if he cared more about his family than about how many beepers and cell phones he could unload on some poor sucker, things would be different. She certainly felt that her wedding night would be going a lot differently if her father would play the role he had taken on. Not for the first time, Helga scowled and wondered why her parents had gone to the trouble of having a second child when it was clear they had never really wanted one.

_Arnold__ Short_

"Well, here we are." Helga announced. "Two parentless children, eloping after getting their high school diplomas. I'll bet we make the papers for sure! It's gonna be so great to see the look on Bob's face when he gets an eyeful of my wedding band!"

_Helga Pataki_

She was happy. Helga Pataki was happy, plain and simple. Sure, this wasn't the way she had always fantasized about her wedding days, but last she checked, fantasies weren't in the habit of living up to the reality. All that mattered is that it was happening. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel elatedly and began humming to the music coming out of the radio. "Whaddya say, Arnold? Is this our song or what?" Helga asked gleefully. Arnold, of course, continued to offer no response, remaining passed out. "Everyone's a critic."

_Rhonda Wellington Lloyd_

Helga sighed when Arnold didn't respond. She didn't know why, but she expected him to say something, anything. Perhaps she truly was mad. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. She certainly didn't relish the idea of a long drive through the desert with no one to talk to. And yet, here she was anyway. "It's funny, isn't it Football Head? I mean, you'll never really know how much I love you. I've been waiting for this to happen ever since I was four years old. You see, when I first met you in pre-school, I was instantly smitten. I didn't see any other boy who could possibly measure up. You had me at hello. But even still, I had to be certain. I didn't make up my mind that I was going to marry you until we were in kindergarten. A woman is supposed to give these kinds of decisions a lot of thought. I didn't want people thinking I was crazy or anything! But I couldn't tell them anyway. I wanted to tell the whole world so many times, but. . .it just never seemed like the right time. But I always pictured that our wedding would be a lot grander than this. I'm not just any girl you know, bucko. I'm Helga Pataki. And my father is the infamous Big Bob Pataki. It would've been huge! When I finally declared my love for you, the whole world would know it. And Bob would've given us a huge wedding! The whole town would've turned out! I mean, he could never resist! It would be a perfect platform to advertise on! Everyone would've been there, I can promise you that. It's too bad, really. But it's alright. I don't need our marriage to be some kind of Broadway production. Not as long as it happens."

**_Instant Gratification_**

"But I never really believed that you could forget me so easily. I guess I really was a fool. How could I have though that someone like you could ever love someone like me? Not willingly, anyway. Not without resistance. I guess it's pretty silly of me. I mean, who could actually stand me? Who would ever want to sleep next to me? Why would anyone ever want to hold me? I'm not lovable, I know that." Helga ran her index finger across her right eye, wiping something out of it. "But you've always been so noble. I just couldn't let go of that hope. That one day, you would turn around and see me as I really am, beneath this ruin and decay on the surface. Part of me still thinks that the hope remains, I know it."

_Gerald Johannsen_

"Or maybe it's like you said, Arnold. Maybe I really am crazy. If that's the case, then I'm sorry. There's a lot of things in my life that I'm sorry about. I've made a lot of mistakes. But my main regret is that I didn't finish what I started nine years ago. And you're just as much to blame for that as I am. Oh yes, that's right. You heard me, bucko. No thanks to you, I had finally managed to put what's I'd been feeling for six whole years into words. Sort of. And then I let you talk me out of it. I let you shuffle me off to this meaningless existence. No purpose. No peace. I can't let that happen again, Arnold. I'm sorry that it's come to this. I never wanted to do anything this drastic."

_Phoebe Heyerdahl_

"But I have my rights!" Helga pounded the steering wheel, a whirlwind of all the rage and anger and heartache and sexual frustration and loneliness she had known throughout the course of her existence flowing through her like a tsunami. "I love you, you know! I love you! Only you and no one else! I've tried it all, Arnold! I've tried to stop! I've tried to love someone else! I've tried to tell you! But I just can't! I can't stop. I can never love another. And I can never bring myself to tell you. Not after the way you reacted the last time I did. I can't handle that kind of rejection. And again, I keep watching you go after others. Watching you waste your beautiful soul on girls who can never understand what true and pure love really is! Why did you do that? Why did you forget me? Am I so worthless you can't even be bothered to remember? I don't have much Arnold. Very little that I can truly call my own. But I have my love. The only thing I have to offer that isn't tattered and tainted with the stuff I've done to myself and everyone around me for as long as I can remember. I have my love, my heart, my soul. And you're the only person I can ever let see that. Maybe now you can understand why it hurts so much that you never looked."

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

_A scorpion and a frog met on the bank of a stream. Unable to swim, the scorpion asked the frog if it might ride on the frog's back. "How do I know you won't sting me?" The frog asked, wary of the scorpion._

_"Because if I sting you," the scorpion replied, "then both of us will drown."_

_Satisfied with the scorpion's reasoning, the frog entered the river and allowed the scorpion to crawl onto its back. About halfway across the water, the scorpion lashed out and stung the frog. In great pain, the frog lost its mobility and began to sink. "Why did you do that?" asked the frog before he sank beneath the stream. "Now we are both doomed to die."_

_"I couldn't help it." Replied the scorpion as it, too, submerged beneath the water's surface. "It's my nature."_

--Fable by Aesop

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Arnold sat on the sofa, leaning back against Rhonda for support. For her part, Rhonda did her best to work her magic on her best friend and. . .she no longer knew what she and Arnold were. She was still in the process of figuring that out. She massaged his shoulders tenderly, resting her chin on his neck as her fingers went to work. "Just let it out. Come on, now." She coaxed as Arnold whimpered. "I knew I should've come sooner. You've been wallowing in pain and anger for too long."

"It's taken me this long just to be able to talk to someone." Arnold explained. "To be honest, I didn't even want you coming over when you called."

"I know. Fortunately, I know what's best for you."

"There was a time when you used to say the same about me."

"Who says I've stopped?" Rhonda smiled, moving her hands down to his back. She worked her feet to kick off her Caprini platforms, letting them drop to the floor. Arnold didn't protest when she began shifting positions. She lifted Arnold against her and maneuvered her long, luscious legs up and across the sofa, bringing Arnold to rest on them.

_Sid Gifaldi_

"Why do you go so far out of your way for me?" Arnold asked, melting into her ministrations. There was no resisting Rhonda when she got like this.

"Because I like you."

"I know you like me."

"Maybe I like you more than I should." Rhonda dug her thumb and forefinger into the small of Arnold's back. His body went rigid for a moment from the sensitivity, but she knew what she was doing.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Lloyd?" Arnold asked, suspecting he already knew the answer. It was pretty hard to deny, considering how intimate she was getting.

"Try not to think about it so much." Rhonda continued with her work. "Tell me about Helga. You were talking about her feelings."

"Helga and I talked about our feelings sometimes. I remember this one time when we were in bed. . ."

"My now that sounds positively delightful." Rhonda giggled. "And what exactly is Miss Pataki like in the sack, hmm?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Nope." Arnold grinned.

"You mean you were married for three months, and you never-?"

"Nope."

"Not even once."

"What can I say? I guess I have a lot of self control."

"Well maybe you need a little less! I mean, I know that we had decided that we wouldn't take our relationship to that level, but Arnold, you do remember you were married? To a girl you claim to think the world of." Rhonda shook her head in disappointment and disbelief.

"It wasn't always like that, you know. We didn't get along all that well most of the time."

_Olga Pataki_

"This is crazy, Arnold! Now I think I realize why she left you. You really weren't much of husband. Maybe if you called her up and offered to give her a damn good rogering, she might come back!"

Arnold sighed. He really didn't have any desire to tell Rhonda that the last conversation he and Helga had was ironically about sex. If he coughed up that tidbit of information, Rhonda would be hung up on it for hours. Not to mention that despite what had happened that morning earlier this week, the idea of Helga and sex still didn't completely compute. I mean, if you looked at any typical picture of her, it would be hard for anyone to think they were looking at a woman who would want anyone making love to her. And how wrong they would be. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, but I'd really like any further relationship I might have with Helga to be based on more than sex."

"Well of course! But I'm just saying, it wouldn't be a bad place to start. Trust me on this. I'm a woman, I should know. And we're at our most talkative about those kinds of things in the afterglow."

"Now that's interesting to hear. I thought you were still a virgin, Rhonda."

"I am!" She harrumphed. "No thanks to you." Rhonda gave him a slight push to emphasize her point.

"C'mon, let's not start that again."

"You started it!" Rhonda growled, then quieted down. She smoothed a wrinkle on the front of her shirt and replaced her hands on Arnold's shoulders before continuing. "But you're right, we were talking about you and Helga. Now, as much as I find it hard to believe, I'm just going to accept that you two never had sex. You're noble enough to go that route. So what can you tell me about your bedroom habits? Did you ever get a peek at her?"

"Once or twice." Arnold coughed up the truth. "I remember once she was hardly dressed. I came downstairs in the morning and she was making breakfast. She wasn't wearing anything but a sport bra and some panties. It was really kind of surreal. I mean, I had to adjust to even thinking of her like that."

"What color panties?" Rhonda asked.

"You're unbelievable!"

"I was only asking a question!"

"Pink, I think."

"And her top?"

"I'm pretty sure it was white. I wasn't staring at her very hard." Arnold tried to explain.

"Not much to look at, then?"

"I wasn't really looking at her like that. I mean, I was. But I wasn't checking her out exactly. She looked so. . .vulnerable. She usually acted angry around me, yelling at me not to bother her and stuff. Not that this time was a lot different. When she realized I was standing there, she started throwing stuff at me."

_and__ Courtney Gripling_

"And this is the woman that loves you." Rhonda chuckled.

"I know, I know. No one ever believes me when I try to explain to them that Helga has this really tender, almost angelic side." Arnold pleaded.

"You're right. I don't believe you."

"Let me try and explain."

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_Narrations by Ginger Foutley_

"Why do you love me? Of all the people you've met in life, I'm the only one you could ever love?" Arnold kept pace with his wife, who moved down the street rapidly, carrying a bag of groceries under her left arm and a small, pink handbag in her right hand.

"I don't know, I just do. Why? Do you have some kind of problem with that?" Helga retorted, quickening her pace to make things even harder on Arnold.

"Of course not. You're free to give your heart to whoever you wish. See, my problem is the fact that I don't ever recall taking you to be my lawfully wedded wife."

"Yeah, well, it was a pretty crazy night, bucko. Lots of things happened. Why? Are you regretting what we did?"

"I'm not regretting it because I didn't do it in the first place! I don't know how, Helga, but I know you arranged this somehow."

"Oh don't be such a whiner! You heard the court, it's only good for ninety days. Unless of course you'd like to take a little trip downtown with me so we can get that marriage license."

"I don't think so."

"That's what I thought. See, I knew it! You regret this. You didn't mean all those beautiful things you said to me!"

"Oh knock it off! That act may have worked on my grandparents, but it doesn't fool me for a second!"

"You're one to talk! Listen to you! Here I am, your newlywed bride, and look at the way you talk to me. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" Helga stopped walking, placing her grocery bag on the pavement.

_Based Upon "Hey Arnold!"_

_Created by Craig Bartlett_

_Based Upon "As Told By Ginger"_

_Created by Emily Kapnek_

Arnold groaned in frustration. "Come on, Helga. Please don't be like this. Can't we just go for coffee or something and have a talk about this?"

"Gee, Arnold, I don't know. Are you sure you can stand to be seen with me?" Helga shot back.

"I'll risk it. Please? I want to know why you feel the way you do."

Helga stopped, turning to face the young man who had so recently accepted his fate and reluctantly come to live in their new home. "It's my love to give. My heart. I'm free to give it to whomever I choose. Does it really matter why I've chosen you? Doesn't the fact that I've given it to you tell you all you should need to know? Does my heart mean so little to you that you will interrogate it instead of accepting it?"

"That's not it at all. You know that I wouldn't do that. I just-"

"You just want a sure thing. That's what you've always wanted, isn't it? It's why you kept after Lila for all those years. It's why you broke up with Nadine. It's why eventually you ended up going with Rhonda, and you broke up with her for the same reasons. You want a sure thing. Well there isn't one, Arnold. You just have to listen to what your heart tells you. Maybe I've finally listened to mine. For as long as I can remember, all my heart has wanted is to be with you. But something always held me back. And you know what? I got sick of it. And I finally decided to do something about it. Maybe if you would just stop angsting for a moment and let someone love you, you wouldn't feel so unsure of yourself. God, I can't believe that I of all people just said that to you." Helga shook her head. "There must be a full moon tonight or something."

_Story by Lord Malachite_

"You're right." Arnold sighed. "Maybe I haven't ever let anyone in."

"Well of course I'm right! But don't worry. It's never too late to start. I mean, look at me!"

"You seem like something of a special case to me, Helga."

"That's what the school shrinks always told me. But I believe it's better to be special than to be ordinary. If you're going to do something, then do it with all you are."

"Is that advice from your sister?"

"From Olga! Ugh, perish the thought, Hair Boy! I don't take advice from her! I mean, she's not exactly leading the good life, if you hadn't noticed. She's a struggling actress and a professional student. My parents still think she's like this gift to the world. But me? I'm still waiting for her to actually do something."

"I think she does plenty. At least she's trying to make something of herself. You would do well to follow your sister's ways."

"Olga, Olga, Olga! Criminey, it's bad enough I hear about her from my parents all the time, now you're going to start too! What, do you like her or something?"

"No, that's not it, I just-"

"Do you wish that I were as beautiful as Olga? Would you actually share my bed if I were more like Olga? If my hair were as soft as hers! If my boobs were as big as hers! If I could cook as well as her! Would you like it if I swayed my hips the way she does so you could so your eyes could follow my ass all over our happy little home!" Helga clutched her handbag tightly, wielding it like a mace, and Arnold was certain that she was about to batter him with it. "Is that what you want?"

"No!" Arnold shouted back at her.

"Just admit it, Arnold. You hate me. Don't stand there and think I don't know it."

"I never said that I hate you."

"No. Instead, you just infer it by comparing me with my perfect older sister. I've seen the way you look at her. It's the same look I see on just about every other guy who gets a good luck at her."

_Pre-read by Shinji Langley_

"So what if your sister is beautiful? Why does it have to be a reflection on you?

"Because she got all the good traits, and I'm an ugly, twisted freak."

"Don't say that about yourself, Helga. You're not ugly. In fact, when you let yourself care about your appearance every now and then, well, you're actually quite pretty. And you're not a freak. You just. . . have strong beliefs and a lot of passion."

"Why do you always have to do that?" Helga turned away. "Why do you always have to turn the other cheek to me?"

"Because I like you." Arnold smiled at her.

"Even though I'm not like Olga?"

"Especially because you're not like Olga. So what about you?" Arnold asked. "You said that you're waiting for Olga to do something. When are you going to do something?" Arnold quipped.

"I already have. I married you, didn't I?" Helga chided.

"How could I ever forget? Oh, right, maybe because I can't remember!"

"Oh not that same old song again, Arnold."

"And why not? Come on, Helga. Can't you at least tell me what my own wedding was like? I get asked almost every day at work. Do you know how weird it sounds when I have to tell people that I can't even remember it? It makes me sound like I'm a lush or something!"

"Oh, all right. If it means that much to you!"

"Yes, it does. Why shouldn't it? Getting married isn't exactly something that you do every day. So tell me, what was it like?"

"It suited us." Helga replied. "To be honest, it wasn't anything like I had been dreaming of for all those years. I expected it to be a much larger affair. But all in all, I would say it defines who we are. I remember when we first pulled into Vegas. . ."

_Written by Lord Malachite_

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Author's Notes

I really don't know how I managed to get another chapter out this week, considering how insanely busy that work has been. I just sat down on Friday night and decided I couldn't let the week go by without an update. So, here we are. As it is, I used a trick of the trade, and threw some good scenes together without really moving the story anywhere. I really didn't want to do the wedding because there was such a crunch for me this week. I just couldn't have done it justice. So I figured that coming at the story from a few different angles would do me some good, and perhaps give you, the reader, a wider perspective. I understand that some minor details might not be all that clear to you, but I assure you that by the time the story is finished, everything will fit. This is all part of my creative process. I'm making you all work at this story a little, since it skips around and isn't linear. I realize that sometimes it's confusing when I switch to Arnold and Rhonda in the "present," but no, I'm not going to do anything to differentiate these scenes. It's your responsibility to figure that out through the conversation and the descriptions. I know that sounds harsh, but I feel it's better for the effect and the artistry of the fanfic. Something I learned in writing class. If you're constantly telling the reader where they are in the story, it suggests that your audience isn't capable of following you unless you hold their hand. And I believe that you're all perfectly capable of following me. Nevertheless, don't get discouraged! If you get lost, just e-mail or IM me and I'll be happy to explain it to you. Spoilers cost extra, though!

I'm extraordinarily thankful to everyone who reads this fic and takes the time to review, but I think we all have to admit that Number 6 gets the reward for going above and beyond the call of duty with his latest responses to my story. I must admit, I like a person who details what they like and don't like about my story! And I'm glad to see that nearly all my reviewers do exactly that. I don't even know where to start with the rest of you, you're all so uplifting and encouraging. Skyhiatrist, you always have such fantastic things to say about me, and it's appreciated. Thanks to Roxynomekop for reviewing early and often, I'm paying attention. Choirchick05, I'm glad that I'm always able to keep you in suspense. And I wouldn't take my eyes of Rhonda if I were you! Ahhelga, of course I have the Garden State soundtrack, and I use it a lot too. Helga isn't dead, but who knows what could happen in the future? Acosta pérez josé Ramiro, if you keep reading, I'll keep writing. That's generally how it works. Emperor Krieg, I live to serve. I hope you'll continue to find pleasure in the story. And of course, there's The J.A.M., who never fails to review me. I hereby award him the "most consecutive reviews award." Thanks for always being there for me. And finally, to Shinji Langley, my longest running fan and my tireless pre-reader. Where would I be without him? I probably missed some people. But I didn't want it to be like an Academy Award acceptance speech that goes on for fifteen minutes.

So, what comes next? Well, with any luck, I'll get around to the wedding next time. There's some great stuff I have planned for that. You should also see another scene at the party, so expect some stuff with characters like Phoebe and Nadine and Sid, as well as the usual suspects. If I have my way, it'll be a lot of fun. There are a lot of plans I have with this story, I really want things to come together. Obviously, Arnold, Helga, and Rhonda will be the primary players, but there will be plenty of room for the other characters as things move on. And of course, I'll include Olga. I mean, Olga has to factor in somehow, she's just too much fun to pass up on. And it's not easy to find a better way to torture Helga than to have her big sis muscle in on her private life. And I'm sure that a lot of you raised an eyebrow when I dropped Courtney Gripling's name up in the credits. But she'll be here, all right. She doesn't have a big role, but it's an important one, and I'm sure you'll all figure out what relation she has to all this when the time comes. So anyway, lots of good stuff to look forward to, so try not to forget about me completely when the new Harry Potter book comes out, okay? Yeah, I know, fat chance of that, but hey, it's worth a shot!

You know what comes next. The part where I tell you to let me know how I'm doing. And don't be shy, you can review, e-mail, IM me, or all three! Just send all your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

07/04/05

4:47AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	5. Better Off Wed

"Better Off Wed"

Helga spun herself around in the swanky women's lobby restroom of the Flamingo Hilton. Her bridal gown was classic, modeled exactly after one she had worn so long ago in one of her better stunts. She smiled to herself, remembering that night some nine years ago, terrorizing the boys among the tombstones, pretending to be the fabled Ghost Bride from one of Gerald's urban legends. It would've gone even better if Curly hadn't frightened her half to death, until Arnold exposed him. It figured. Arnold was never afraid of anyone or anything. Not really. Arnold had always been the type to face fear head on rather than succumb to it. What a guy. But the fun had ended for Helga the next day, when she overheard Sid commenting that the real terror they had faced the night before was the idea of Helga in a wedding dress. She was any man's worst nightmare! That had hurt. She knew she was cruel and unpleasant and unattractive and a variety of other things she didn't much feel like running herself down with at the moment. She certainly didn't need someone to take her on a tour of her weaknesses and shortcomings. But as always, Helga had steeled herself, reinforcing the perceptions that Sid helped to paint her with. She remembered telling him not to flatter himself and giving him a good, solid crack to the nose. That little incident had earned her a suspension, or course, as well as a good chewing out by Bob and whispers flying around the school. Another brick in the wall she had piled high and thick long ago.

Helga caught her image in the mirror and stopped spinning. She contorted her face, looking at her reflection in different ways. It had hardly changed since she was a child. Her lips were a little fuller, her nose still defining, and the rest of her was no different. She had even kept her distinctive eyebrow, which was now a bit thinner but still ever-present. _Why did I do that?_ Helga wondered to herself. _Am I really so stubborn? What point am I trying to prove? That looks aren't everything? Yeah, well, you have to have something else to offer if you what that one to work._ She scowled, letting her posture slouch a bit as she slumped into the elongated sink, her hands reaching out to grab the sides of the porcelain for support. "I'm sorry, Arnold. I wanted to be pretty for you. Truly I did. You deserve that. But I guess it just wasn't meant to be. Even so, I hope you know that there is something inside of me that's more beautiful than any supermodel. I just hope you can still see it. You always did before, somehow. You would always look for the good in everyone. You still do. That's what makes you so beautiful. My perfect groom." Helga took a deep breath, gathered her old clothes, and returned to the lobby, heading for the front door and the safety of her car, where her heart's only solace lay waiting.

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Phoebe Heyerdahl strolled through the front doors of the Lloyd home, somewhat surprised that she wasn't greeted. Rhonda usually prided herself on her parties. As Phoebe entered the living room, she saw that many of her classmates were dancing wildly, but no sign of Gerald or even his best friend Arnold. Moving in further, she spotted Nadine by the punchbowl, munching on a toast point and looking a little bored.

"Nadine! Hi! Wow, you look great!" Phoebe grinned, smiling at the girl who had been her lab partner throughout the various science classes they had been mutually enrolled in since high school had begun.

"Thanks." Nadine smiled, her tan skin and blonde hair shimmering beneath the disco ball. Nadine wore green well, a flashy sequin gown that drew attention to her. Still, Nadine looked alone, and Phoebe felt a little sorry for her. She hadn't had much in the way of boyfriends, and it was a bone of contention with the girl. Phoebe recalled how Nadine once complained that she just couldn't find a guy who wanted to have anything resembling a serious relationship with a girl who wasn't afraid of bugs. Not that Nadine had been completely alone, Phoebe had seen to that. Back in the fall of sophomore year, Phoebe had gotten Arnold into their group on the pretense of doing group presentations for the advanced biology classes. Phoebe would frequently show up late or make excuses to leave Arnold and Nadine alone, and it had worked. The two dated for several months, and it was a quiet, respectful courtship. But it hadn't lasted. To this day, Phoebe still didn't know why. Nadine never wanted to talk about it. She did admit that it wasn't because of someone else for either of them, and that Arnold hadn't really done anything to make her want to dump him, it was just. . .complicated. Nadine had always left it at complicated. But whatever her reasons, they had parted ways, and by the end of the year, something big developed between Arnold and Rhonda. Now there was a couple Phoebe had never understood. But perhaps she just wasn't well versed in the ways of teen romance. After all, she had always had the same boyfriend in Gerald, she didn't know firsthand the pain of a breakup, or the heartache of being alone.

"You don't look so bad yourself." Nadine cocked her head, indicating Phoebe's attire. The girl from Kentucky wore a powder blue dress, with her hair falling free. It was exactly the kind of thing Gerald preferred, something simple that would still showcase her beauty to everyone else in the room.

"Thanks for saying so." Phoebe shrugged. She still felt tired from the party at her house. It was already going for 11, and if she knew Rhonda, this party wouldn't be ending until the wee hours of the morning, probably after the sun came up. "Have you seen Gerald?" She inquired.

"Oh, haven't you heard? He left about an hour and a half ago with Rhonda."

"Gerald left? With Rhonda! But. . .I don't understand, just yesterday he was talking with me about our future and-"

"Um, I'm sorry Phoebe, let me explain. Gerald and Rhonda went to the hospital."

"Oh dear!" Phoebe's eyes went wide at once in worry. "What happened!"

"We're not really sure." Nadine put a hand on her shoulder. "Gerald is fine, don't worry. But Arnold collapsed in the kitchen a few hours ago."

"My goodness! Is he all right?"

"We don't know. Helga said she would bring him to the hospital and call us after he was admitted. That was awhile ago. When it got to be an hour and Helga hadn't checked in, Gerald left to go down and see what was happening. Rhonda insisted on accompanying him. The rest of us have just been, well, keeping the party going. At least until we hear from them. Rhonda left me in charge."

Phoebe took in a deep breath "All right, let me see if I have this straight. Something happened to Arnold, and he passed out."

"That's right."

"And Helga said she would take him to the hospital."

"That's where she said they were going. But like I said, Helga didn't check in like she promised, so Gerald and Rhonda went to see for themselves."

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. This can't be good." Phoebe began pacing.

"I'm sure it's nothing. She probably just got bogged down with the paperwork and forgot to call, or it was nothing serious."

"You don't understand. I know Helga better than anyone. I know we don't talk nearly as much as we did back in junior high, but we still go out for pizza every week. Whatever's going on here, I don't think it was an accident."

"You mean, you think that someone tried to hurt Arnold?"

"I think. . .that Helga did." Phoebe exhaled, rubbing her arms.

"What would Helga want to hurt Arnold?" Nadine furrowed her brow, unable to follow Phoebe's logic.

"I don't think she's trying to hurt him at all." Phoebe shook her head.

"Then what's going on?"

"I don't know, Nadine. I just don't know. I'd better get down there. Do you have your cell with you?"

"I left it in my handbag, Rhonda's been putting them all in the guest room."

"Go and get it. I'll call you within the hour. I'm going to see if I can find Helga."

"You're going to the hospital too?"

Phoebe nodded. "I'll come back to the party if I can."

"Okay. I hope you're wrong about this, Phoebe."

"So do I, Nadine." Phoebe turned and started walking towards the door. "You'd better call his grandparents, see if they'd heard anything."

"I will. And Phoebe?"

"Yes?"

"If you see Arnold. . ." Nadine's lip trembled for a moment at the thought of something dangerous happening to him, and she took a step backwards, her palms gripping the edge of the table tightly. "Tell him I said hi."

Phoebe acknowledged her friend with a nod before trotting to the front door and out of sight. _What did you do, Helga?_ Phoebe thought with great anxiety as she got into her car. _What have you started?_

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Leaning against the wall, Sid held a cup of punch in his one hand as he continued to look over the evening's prospects. His eyes continued to flash in the direction of Nadine. Now she was a good target. Single, definitely looking for the right guy, her body language screamed sexual frustration. . .she almost seemed too perfect. There was also something vulnerable showing in her now that Phoebe had moved off. Yes, this was definitely his target for the evening. "Got one." Sid grinned, feeling lucky.

"Who's the lucky lil' lady then, Sid?" Stinky asked, he was always interested in Sid's conquests.

"Nadine." Sid's grin grew wider. "She's ripe for the plucking."

"Aww, she's not worth it! Now if you could get Rhonda. . ."

"Too much excess baggage." Sid shook his friend. "And even if there weren't, that's a lot of work. Any guy worth his salt can still smell Arnold all over her. She isn't ready to see someone else yet."

"Uh-uh! She went up stairs with Gerald, remember?"

"Yeah, and nothing happened. When they came back down, they looked exactly as they did when they went up earlier. Besides, Gerald and Phoebe are way too tight. He wouldn't dump Phoebe, even for Rhonda." Sid explained.

"Unless he's thinkin' of havin' his lemon puddin' an eatin' it too." Stinky snickered.

"I guess it's possible. But Rhonda sure wasn't giving off the vibe of a girl who'd just been making out or anything else when she came back down."

"Hey, I'm just sayin'" Stinky offered.

"Aw, I bet I could get Rhonda to go with me." Harold boldly declared.

"Don't be absurd." Sid rolled his eyes.

"You just watch!"

"Harold, she's not even here!"

"So I'll ask her when she gets back!"

Stinky laughed. "I say we let him. It'll be his funeral and all."

"I'm only gonna ask her!" Harold insisted.

"Yeah right, Harold." Sid, too, began laughing. "I mean c'mon, like Rhonda Wellington Lloyd would let you so much as sniff her panties, let alone spend a night with you!

"Yeah! It's like you're tryin' ta shoot a turkey at five hundred paces or something!" Stinky now laughed openly.

Harold began growling in anger. "She would too! Why I bet I can take her easy! And if you don't quit laughing at me, I'm gonna pound you!"

Sid relented, not wanting to get distracted. "Okay guys, relax. The night is young. Trust me. We're all going home with someone tonight." Sid's eyes once again fell upon Nadine, who was now sitting on the staircase, looking pensive. "To that end, I'm going in. Lotsa luck guys!" Sid gave them both his best smile as he straightened his bow tie and began moving towards his target.

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Helga growled, rolling her window down as she pulled into the drive thru chapel. She immediately removed the platinum card from her handbag, knowing it would be smoking by the time she left here as a newlywed. She pulled the car up to the first, large window, where a charming, middle-aged African-American male smiled at her. "Thank you for choosing the _Better Off Wed_ _Chapel_, where dreams come true and love blossoms perpetually."

"Yeah, yeah." Helga responded, handing the credit card to the handler. "As if you couldn't guess, my boy-" Helga broke into a cough, and she found she had to cover her mouth until the fit passed. Finally, with some effort, she managed to choke the attack back down. "Um, this guy and I wanna get hitched."

"Splendid! That's always been our specialty!" He spoke in an accent that seemed a little too jolly, too eager. Helga briefly wondered if he acted the same way when he was off-duty. She suspected that he did. "Would you like to see our selection of rings?"

"Not especially." Helga replied. "We'll take whatever's cheapest."

"Pardon my saying so, Miss. . .?"

"Pataki. And can you make it quick?"

"I'd just hate to see you make such a big decision without even looking. You wouldn't want the symbol of your union to be something you think is cheap and ugly, would you?"

"It'll be fine. I don't care about that kind of stuff. Symbolism is for poets and independent films. I just want the two of us to be married. That's what I need to be happy, bucko. If anything makes our marriage cheap and ugly, it'll be our own doing, not the fault of some lame ass jewelry."

"If I may suggest, you might be interested in-"

"Criminey! Do you marry people here, or do you just talk them to death so you can start a drive thru funeral business! Look, whatever ring you think will look best on me, that's what I'll take! And don't you dare try to rip me off, because I will be looking at the invoice, and if I think for a second you're hosing me down, I'll refuse the charges so fast your head will spin!"

"Yes ma'am! Right away! Here!" The clerk proffered her a clipboard and pen. "You and your groom will just need to fill these out. There are only two couples ahead of you. You'll be able to pickup your rings and submit anything special you want for the ceremony at the next window. We will try our best to accommodate you."

"Yeah, whatever." Helga growled as the window shut. She shut the radio off and turned on the interior light, addressing the paperwork. Pretty standard stuff, checking her identity, her age, her citizenship, whether she was eligible to be married without parental consent, blood type, relatives, etc. She only gave useful answers for what she felt was important, the rest she just made up. She couldn't afford to spend much time on her form, she had to fill out Arnold's as well, since he was in no condition to do it himself. She also had to make him ready for the ceremony, and pass him off as just drunk. She hoped.

As Helga started in on Arnold's form, she began to realize how she still didn't know much about her love's background. She was able to fill out the information about when he was born, but she didn't know who his parents were. She just filled it out as info about his grandparents and marked them off as guardians. She had no idea what his social security number was, either. She just made one up, using the same numbers as her own for the first five digits and just randomly choosing the other four. She had his driver's license from his wallet, so that should do for the I.D. After very carefully signing the form, trying not to make it look too much like her own writing. She scribbled the signature as much as possible, she had yet to meet a man with legible penmanship when it came to script. Finally, she made Arnold as ready as possible, maneuvering his dead weight so that he sat up straight. "It's almost show time, Arnold. Are you ready?" She asked, knowing he couldn't possibly hear her. "This is going to be so great! Finally, after all these years, a moment for just the two of us! Oh Arnold, at last, now at least you can finally know how I truly feel. I can stop caring what anyone else thinks! It will just be you and me against the world! I think I can actually feel my heart trying to beat out of my chest. Almost like-" Helga stopped in mid-sentence, listening, and then she heard it once more. That unmistakable, breathy sound that seemed to be there whenever she turned around. The one that wouldn't let her have just a moment to herself. Her body tensed. It wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible! Her left arm shook as she tightened her hand into a fist and sent it flying backwards without warning, striking Brainy in the jaw. He sank to the floor of the back seat. Furious, Helga opened her door and got out, her long bridal gown trailing behind her as she threw open the door to the back seat and forcibly removed Brainy for the second time that evening. He looked up at her with a mixture of wonder and apprehension as she gave him a push. "Now you listen here and you listen good. I don't know what your deal is, or why you're always around when I'm trying to have just a moment of peace for myself, but it stops here Brainy. I'm getting married. And I'm not about to share my honeymoon with you! Now I want you to go home! Go home, Brainy! Go home. . .and try to forget me." Helga collapsed, her voice losing its conviction. "Okay?"

Brainy only looked up at her, wheezing once as he tried to say something, but apparently he changed his mind, and he only stared. Helga shut her eyes, not wanting to meet his. Slowly, she picked herself up and went back to her car, shutting the door behind her and locking herself in. She took a deep breath to get a better grip on herself, then took a look at herself in the rear view mirror. To no great surprise, she looked like hell. Of course. "Sorry about the interruption." She said softly. "But at least we're alone now."

Helga looked out the windshield, watching the happy couple in front of her make out, clearly not realizing their ceremony was ready. Helga honked her horn and leaned her head out the window. "HEY! Move it, lard ass! I ain't got all night back here! Save the honeymoon for the hotel!" She watched as the couple disengaged, the driver flipping her off before they moved up to the third window where the vows were actually exchanged.

Helga mumbled to herself about how hard it was to have anything go her way as she pulled to the second window, where a young man with curly brown hair smiled at her. "Ah, Miss Pataki, right?"

"For a few more minutes, I guess. So you've got the rings?"

"Yes. These are easily adjustable at most jewelers if they aren't a perfect fit. Yours has a modest diamond studding. Jim noted that you weren't wearing an engagement ring, and he felt that you deserved some diamonds."

"Oh geez, how much is this gonna set me back?"

"They're not the greatest quality diamonds in the world. $999 for the set. Unless you'd like a studded ring for the groom as well, of course."

"No, no. This will be fine." Helga nodded.

"Do you have the paperwork?"

"Here you are." Helga passed the clipboard and the forms through the window. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"It's Paul. Ok then, anything special for the vows?"

"Just the usual, Paul. I'd like to get out of here as quickly as possible."

"Big honeymoon plans, eh?"

"If only you knew." Helga grinned. "Anything else you need?"

"Nope, you can go ahead and pull up when the couple in front of you is done. If you're a little, um, occupied, listen for the music. You need to move up when the march plays."

"Got it."

"Um, Miss Pataki, is your groom. . ." Paul looked down at the papers for a name. "Arnold? Is he alright? He looks a little out of it."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. This has all been very impromptu. I mean, you have no idea how much he had to drink to work up the courage to ask me to marry him."

"I can imagine." Paul chuckled. Helga frowned at him. "Oh, dear! I'm sorry, that's not what I was inferring, I only meant-"

"Yeah, whatever. Save it for someone who cares." Helga pulled away from the window in annoyance, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel and waiting for the stupid couple in front of her to finish up so she could get on with her own business. Why did weddings have to be so much work?

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_Hello, Strangers!_ By Ginger Foutley

_Alright, secret time.__ I haven't really told anyone yet except for my immediate family, so this is as good a venue for the official announcement as any. I'm getting married! I think. Okay, as you can probably tell, I haven't put nearly enough thought into this yet. I said yes, but we haven't even set a date or made any preparations. Maybe both of us are just afraid to through with it. Darren and I have been on again, off again for a long time. But we've been on for over a year now, and, well, he just sort of asked me out of the blue. At the time, I just couldn't think of a reason to say no. I totally love him, I always have. Even when I was really angry or hurt because of him. He's definitely not the perfect man, but he tries, and that's all I can really ask for. _

_So here I am, with a ring on my finger. It's been there for weeks, and I have mixed emotions over it. Sometimes, when I feel nervous, I find myself running a finger over it, I guess it gives me a little reassurance. It's a mad world where only the mad are sane, and this rock on my finger is, well, my rock. Something to cling to in the storm, a safe port. At least I know somebody loves me. Ever since I've been about fourteen, I always wondered what this would be like. It's not that I'm desperate to get married or anything, I just, wanted to know what it was like to be told by a guy that he loves you like no other. Out of all the millions of women in this world, you're the only one for him. And now that it's happened, well, I'm still wondering. Darren said some really beautiful things to me when he popped the question. And we've known each other for so long that I can't really think of marrying anyone else. We've been through so much together. Shared so much love, and caused each other a lot of pain, too. It's all just part of being human. _

_I don't know if I'll ever understand the things that we do to each other. Men and women just don't make sense. How can we claim to love each other so much one minute and claw at each other like vicious animals the next? And yet we keep coming back for more! I'm sorry, but I just can't believe that sex is the whole reason we put ourselves through all that. I can't believe that love isn't there at the core of our lives, giving us a helping hand, showing us how to understand each other. We are not beyond saving. For every terrorist or pedophile or sociopath that roams the world, there's a philanthropist, a good Samaritan, someone willing to stand up and fight for what's really important. I like to think that for all his faults, Darren is one of those people. That even though we've hurt each other in the past, we've also learned from these mistakes. That we've both decided that what we have is real. _

_You have to believe in that. I can't be alone. Someone else out there is in love too, right? I mean, really in love. Not high school 'I love you, I love you too.' I'm talking about the real thing. That magic that takes flight in your heart when you know you've found that one person who can make you happy forever. When you tell someone you love them like that, then you've found the secret to building a better world. Because love isn't something you can just hold inside. It starts in your heart and is nurtured by your soul, and it's the only thing in this world that you can call your own, that no one can take from you. And you can't just hold that inside, no matter how hard you might try. It's going to come out, one way or another. Through the cracks, through the chinks that you think no one can see. In your thoughts, in your actions. Maybe you'll confess when no one is looking. Maybe you'll write it all down as a secret admirer note. Maybe you'll end up climbing to the rooftops and declaring your love for the whole world to see. Because love is something that's meant to be shared. It can't be helped. That's the nature of love. It's nothing to be afraid of. _

_So why do I suddenly feel like saying all this, hmm? Maybe I finally decided to take some of my own advice and cut loose. For the past few weeks, I've been taking myself entirely too seriously. I figured it was time for a completely new approach. Besides, this hotel room is the best! I've never been in a bathtub this big before. Yeah, that's right. I've been dictating this baby into a micro cassette while I lounge in the bathtub. Eh, it's for this very reason that I only let them publish a headshot of me next to this column. I'm taking these scented bars of soap home with me, and some of this herbal shampoo. I really need to go on vacation more often._

_Okay, where was I before that little reverie? Oh, right! Love! It's nothing to be afraid of. Even now, as I lie here in the soapy water, watching the light catch the diamond on my finger, I'm still afraid. Not of love, but that I might somehow fail it. I'm only human, after all. Is it so wrong to want to get it right the first time? I hope not. But I look back on how my mother wasn't the biggest winner at marriage until she met Dr. Dave and, well, I worry that I'll make mistakes too. Mom says I'm just not trusting in my feelings enough, and maybe that's true. Does that make me a hypocrite for writing all this? _

_I guess maybe, in the end, there are no sure things, even with love. You just have to reach out with your heart and trust. You have to believe that things will turn out as they should. Otherwise, you'll just be spinning your wheels. Sometimes I feel like I need to remind myself of that. I won't lie. Darren and I. . .we made some mistakes along the way. Big mistakes. But for some reason, no matter how many times we say it's over for good. . .it never is. It's never over between us. And I think we've finally realized that it never will be over. And that none of those things we've done to each other matter. It's true what they say. Love conquers all. Why don't you give it a try?_

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"You stopped at the best part!" Rhonda protested, giving his back a slight shove.

"I know." Arnold chuckled. Torturing Rhonda like this could be fun, he knew how she thrived on gossip.

"Tell me about the vows!"

"In a minute. My glass needs a refill." He reached out to the small coffee table and lifted the bottle of wine, adding another generous portion to his glass. "Want a hit?"

"Trying to get me drunk, Arnold? Now I'm wondering if you're trying to seduce me."

"Do you want the drink or not!" Arnold rolled his eyes.

"Sure, go ahead and top me off." Rhonda grinned. Arnold filled her glass back to the top before setting the bottle down. He quickly drank from his own glass, lowering the level a little so he could swirl it around on the next sip for proper activation, then set the glass down adjacent to the bottle. Satisfied that they had enough alcohol to keep them going for awhile, Arnold leaned back against Rhonda. She placed her glass on the end table behind them and accepted him easily, her fingers flexing against his shoulders once more. She caught a reflection of them in the mirror across the room and smiled. They always looked so very good together. She remembered Helga had referred to them once in the school paper as "the princess and the pauper." Considering Helga's own feelings for Arnold, it was obvious to Rhonda that it hadn't been meant as a compliment. Even so, she kind of liked the idea. They weren't many men left like Arnold. He even knew how to comment on her outfits! He was a dream, and absolute dream, and here he was again, in her arms. Maybe another woman was driving him there, but it mattered little to Rhonda. Helga had had her turn. Worse she had had him, completely, and then she walked away. As far as Rhonda was concerned, anything that happened between herself and Arnold from this point forward was no longer Helga's business. She had forfeited her right to object. She resumed her earlier ministrations on his shoulders, occasionally sliding a palm up to caress the softer flesh under his neck.

"You haven't done that in awhile. . ." Arnold breathed as Rhonda continued her work.

"What you were just doing to my neck."

"Was I doing something to your neck?" Rhonda asked playfully

Arnold grinned himself, keeping his back to her to hide the expression on his face. "Have I ever told you you've got really nice legs, Rhonda?"

"Once. That night we stayed at the Four Seasons. When we slept in that king size bed. Even I don't have a mattress that big, you know. Mine's a queen four poster."

"I've been in your bed too."

"Not often enough." Rhonda dared, finally making Arnold blush a little.

"Sorry, I guess I never really wanted to commit adultery." Arnold retorted.

It was enough for Rhonda. "Just tell me one thing. About us. And please be honest."

Arnold began to sweat a bit. Rhonda was rarely this serious. Something was definitely bothering her. "What?"

"Am I too late? For us, I mean."

"I know what you mean."

"Let's not kid ourselves. We know what this is leading up to. I don't want to be disappointed. Am I too late?" Rhonda repeated. She folded her hands, cupping them slightly against his back.

"I. . ." Arnold shook his head, feeling unsure of himself.

"You're in love with Helga." He nodded in response, looking pained. "But what if she doesn't come back, Arnold? Will you still deny me, then?"

"I can't say. I just don't know. I'm not saying I can't love you, Rhonda. I think, maybe, I already do. I can't really compare you to Helga. You're just too different. But-" Rhonda silenced him with a kiss. Different than he had expected. It was long and slow, tender instead of passionate; gentle and quiet. "Rhonda. . ."

"Shhh." She replied, holding him tightly. "I just needed you to know how I really feel. Whatever's going on in that head of yours, please don't forget that, okay?"

"O-okay." Arnold nodded. She kissed him again, this time only a peck, before settling on an embrace. She clutched him to her, and he offered no resistance, two prisoners of loneliness basking in comfort they had found long ago.

"I just need your help in understanding." Rhonda whispered. "Tell me more about Helga. You say you love her so much. Tell me everything."

"It's going to take a long time."

She looked him deeply in the eyes, and as he returned her gaze, Arnold felt like there was more passing between them than either of them could ever put into words. "I don't have anywhere else to be." Rhonda said quietly.

"I don't want you to be anywhere else." He whispered.

Rhonda shut her eyes. "You were getting married. Tell me about the ceremony."

"This part I still only know from Helga. She said she was quite sweet and charming, considering all the frustrations she was going through. Now, as for the actual ceremony. . ."

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Author's Notes

Okay, so here we are, another chapter finished. It was definitely time to get some of this stuff out in the open. I found myself grinning immensely during the scene with Sid, Harold, and Stinky. Something about it just clicked with me for some reason. Hopefully it comes across to you as good as I think it did. And then of course there's the infamous Arnold/Rhonda scene. I get the feeling a lot of people are really going to hate me for that. So before you type out your flames, ask yourself one question. Did you really think it wouldn't happen? In this story, Rhonda is a force to be reckoned with. She has an extensive history with Arnold that neither of them can escape, and I don't really feel they want to. Arnold and Rhonda have bonded very intimately, in a way that few people can. Right now, Arnold is in a world of emotional pain, and Rhonda is offering him a safe harbor. However, my making Rhonda so powerful a player should not indicate that Helga can't compete. It may seem like I'm belittling Helga at first glance, but remember that at this point in the back story, there is no relationship between Arnold and Helga. It's only now being planted, and it will still take plenty of time to grow. Arnold's feelings for Helga have grown quite profound in the present time, so expect to have the mysteries revealed as the story unfolds.

Okay, now to address some of those burning questions from the last round of reviews. For those who didn't get it, the names appearing in between the paragraphs last time were the opening credits. Chapter 4 is the point where I feel the story moved past the prologue and into the main body, so I felt it was a good place to put the titles.

Obviously, I've deviated from the. . .I hesitate to call "The Jungle Movie" or "The Patakis" canon as they were ideas Craig Bartlett had that never got put into production. Therefore, things as he imagined them could have changed drastically as the dream became reality. But for my purposes, I just left the universe alone and just moved the characters to high school age. Not exactly an original idea, countless fanfics have done that already, but good storytelling is good storytelling, plain and simple.

As for how the characters come across, I feel that all the players here are three-dimensional people with strengths and weaknesses and quirks and faults. Therefore, you will see the different sides of them. To the surprise of no one I'm sure, least of all me, I seem to get the most comments on Helga (although I'm very happy to see people enjoying the Rhonda I've presented). Number 6, I know you're very passionate about her, but in my humble opinion, I think you give her a little too much credit. Helga always does the wrong thing. It's just that she comes around after the fact and then she does the right thing. See "Olga Comes Home," "Olga Gets Engaged," "Arnold's Hat," "Ms. Perfect," and "Phoebe Takes The Fall" for just a fraction of the examples. However, sometimes she does the wrong thing and can't undo it, like in "Helga And The Nanny" or "Arnold & Lila." Those are the times when she just has to learn to live with what she's done. My story is just another case of Helga doing something wrong. We'll just have to see how it plays out.

I'm sure a lot of you would love to know that juicy tidbit about Arnold and Nadine, wouldn't you? Come on, be honest! Perhaps I'll even reveal it as time marches on. Ask and ye shall receive!

Once again, this chapter got written all in one sitting, save for these notes, which I always save until posting time for some reason. I wrote this thing over the course of about five and a half hours on Friday night. It wasn't easy, but at least I got it done. It was written almost exclusively to Coldplay's new "X&Y" album, which somehow kept me moving long after I wanted to just slack off and play games and just take a week off. But then I thought of all those people who have been reviewing and e-mailing and IMing me and telling me how much they admire my dedication to this story and that I've committed to rolling out a chapter every week. I think of letting all of you down, and then I realize I can't do that. Too many people would be most disappointed if I let them down. So I keep myself planted in the chair and press on, and sometimes, it works great, and not only do you get a new chapter, but a long one to boot! This one is shaping up to be something of a doozy.

So, I just want you all to know how much I appreciate the wonderful things you say about me and my little story. I have a job where I get told I'm stupid and incompetent most of the day, so it's a pleasure indeed to come home and find this kind of validation. Each of you makes all those horrible days at work worthwhile. Thank you.

Lastly, some of you might be wondering why this chapter didn't show up this morning and I gave you all such a scare. Well, the truth is that FFN decided that the wee hours of Sunday would be a great time to keep me from logging into the system, so I had to wait until this afternoon to get it up. Sorry, I'll try not to let it happen again!

I get this nagging feeling that I'm forgetting stuff, stuff that I'll be sure to remember as soon as I post this chapter. That's how it usually goes for me. But I'll let you all go before I end up turning this into a speech. I'm excited about this latest entry into my saga, so I do hope you'll take the time to let me know exactly what you think. You'll find the review button below. And, of course, my door is always open for company. Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

07/11/05

1:27PM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	6. Mischief Managed

"Mischief Managed"

The engine idled smoothly as Helga sat impatiently in her car, a mixture of frustration and nervousness eating away at her. It was hard to believe that after all these years, she nearly had her heart's desire. She had to breathe deep several times to contain her excitement. For as far back as she could remember, Helga had kept a tightly made wall around herself, one that had refused to break no matter how hard anyone else banged against it. She looked at the young man, still deeply unconscious beside her. How many times had he tried to reach out for her? He did it on a routine basis when they were much younger. But something had made him stop. She had finally managed to push him too far, rejected him too many times. How ironic. All her life, she had wanted to be accepted by him. And her own insecurities had at long last destroyed that opportunity.

Angry with herself, Helga closed one of her patented fists and banged it twice against the steering wheel, causing it to rattle. She gripped it tightly, worried she would set off the air bag. What had she been thinking? Why had she cared what anyone else thought about her? Would it have really mattered if the rest of her classmates had known that she had a heart and soul? That despite what she wanted them to believe, Helga G. Pataki was no more immune to the desires of the human heart than any other girl? Would they have really cared? Now that she could see her past from a more rational point of view, Helga strongly suspected that they wouldn't have cared very much at all. Why should they have? Back in those days, most of the others had their own subtly blooming relationships. No one could really get away clean. Gerald and Phoebe had been an unofficial item for years before they finally decided to make it formal. There was a strange connection between Eugene and Sheena that no one really got, but perhaps it was just a geek mystique. Helga was never really sure if they were just friends or more. Curly lusted after Rhonda. For awhile, it had seemed as though there was something between the princess and Harold, but that gave way to the inevitable romantic overtures between Harold and Patty. Then, of course, there was Little Miss Perfect, but she had left Hillwood a good three years ago and Helga didn't miss her at all. She grudgingly admitted that Lila wasn't as terrible a person as Helga liked to imagine, but she certainly didn't need the competition. Helga thought it was a great shame that Lila had commanded Arnold's attentions so thoroughly. He could've done much better than her. Oh, right. He _did _do much better than her.

Drawn once again to the only man she could ever truly love, Helga leaned over and wrapped Arnold up into something resembling a hug. It was an awkward effort, considering the restrictions of the car, but it more or less worked. If only Arnold could hold her, if only he could understand and return her own affections. She shuddered as she thought of the high school years. The terrible things she had said to her best friend Phoebe after finding out that the girl had played an instrumental role in sparking what Helga referred to as the Nadine Saga. She didn't know what else to call it. It was her least favorite period in life. It was during that year that Helga had finally felt that her situation was hopeless. There wasn't any possible way out. Arnold would never love her. He wouldn't even like her very much. She regretted the horrible things she had thought about Nadine. How she had wished terrible things upon the poor girl. Things that should never be wished on anyone, regardless of what that person might have done.

And then her wish came true. No one really knows what happened except Nadine herself, and maybe Arnold. And it was clear that neither wanted to talk about it. But whatever the reasons, Nadine had very suddenly broken up with Arnold. And she had never been the same again. Nadine had been a free spirit. She longed to be as free as the insects she studied. She wanted to become one with nature. But she changed. She became quiet, like living wallpaper. It was as though someone had taken her soul and made her a shell. But when questioned about what Arnold could've possibly done to make her so sedated, she would only say that it had nothing to do with Arnold. Helga had wanted to believe that. She did believe it. No matter what the gossiping idiots of the school might say about him, Helga knew that he was a wonderful person. Arnold would never hurt a girl like that, he would never break someone's heart. Not intentionally. Helga longed to know what had happened between those two, but she expected it was a mystery she would never find the answer to. Especially once Rhonda swooped in. The first time Helga had seen Arnold and Rhonda making out in the hallway, she felt her heart burst into pieces. At long last, it was over. Rhonda Lloyd could never be beaten. She was the epitome of beauty and power and wealth and popularity. No man could ever long for any other woman as long as Rhonda Lloyd deigned to hang from his arm. And she had for so long. Briefly, Helga wondered if she ever would've had the nerve to go through with this insanity if Arnold had remained single.

Sweating nervously, Helga released her groom, turning back to the matter at hand. The march was playing. It was her chance to dream.

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"Good evening, m'lady. I couldn't help but notice that you look a bit lost." The voice came from behind her, and Nadine had to take a deep breath before she turned to face it.

"Sid."

"At your service." He grinned widely, offering a cup full of punch to her. She took it hesitantly, not wanting to encourage him too much.

"Look, Sid. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I really have no desire to become another one of your conquests."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it!" Sid replied. Still with a grin, Nadine observed. He definitely had her in his sights.

"Uh-huh." She responded coolly. "Well then, I guess that means you should focus your energy on someone more receptive."

"I can't. Not when it's obvious that you're hurting. Look, I just want to talk with you for awhile. Nothing has to happen. We can just go out on the balcony. Everyone can see us, there."

Nadine seemed to consider this offer for a moment. Why would Sid want to talk with her if he didn't have ulterior motives? But he wasn't using his usual moves, as she had observed him using on others. He didn't put his hand on her shoulder, didn't suggest they go someplace private. If anything, the balcony would make them more visible to the other guests, the lights were so bright. "Alright." She eventually acquiesced, wondering if she would regret it later. "But don't try anything!"

"I'll be a perfect gentleman." Sid acknowledged, leading the way to the balcony and opening the door. Nadine stepped through and walked to the smooth wooden railing, looking at the small courtyard below with its fountain. Many couples had gathered here, dancing around it; while others were utilizing the darker corners to engage in activities a bit more intimate. "There, isn't this better?"

"I don't know." Nadine shrugged. "I guess. Now what do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"Help me with what?"

"With whatever's been bothering you for the past two years." Sid grinned yet again, his expression the perfect picture of concern. "Look, to this day, no one really knows what happened with you and Arnold that left you so sad. And I'm not asking you to tell me about that if you don't want to. But I would like to know why someone who used to be so bright and charming became so. . .closed off."

"I fail to see how it's any of your business." Nadine was taken aback at someone trying to pry into her personal life, especially a boy who she felt was an acquaintance at best.

"You're right. It isn't." Sid nodded. "Even so, here I am."

"Why do you even care?"

"My duty." He grinned yet again. "I can't leave a damsel in distress. Especially one who is on the cusp of going off into the real world. Look at you, Nadine. You would be so beautiful if you turned yourself on a bit. Something happened to you. Something happened to the girl I know who used to chase moths and butterflies and cockroaches and caterpillars, the girl who was Rhonda Lloyd's confidante and lackey. What happened to you?"

Nadine fidgeted with her hands, she didn't know how to respond to Sid's kindness. Even if he was just trying to worm his way into her panties, it had been so long since she had been shown such open concern from another person. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him that he was just curious about her. But then a new possibility crept into her thoughts. She turned on her heel, facing him with a hostile expression. "Who put you up to this? Is this some kind of bet?"

"Huh? I don't get it." Sid replied, his face scrunching up. "How is this a bet?"

"You know what I mean! Did you and your sleazy friends make some kind of bet that you could figure out what I'm all about! Is that what this is!"

Sid took a step backwards, trying to make her feel less intimidated. "No, it's nothing like that! I swear it!"

"You swear?"

"Yes!"

Nadine relented, taking a step back herself. "Alright then. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"It's okay. It isn't exactly the first time that a woman has yelled at me." Sid acknowledged

"I'll bet." Nadine actually smiled at the self-depreciating humor. Before long, both of them were chuckling. "All right, Sid. Perhaps I misjudged you."

"See what happens when you give people a chance?" He smiled this time, an upturn of his mouth that Nadine couldn't help but feel was just for her.

"We'll see about that. Come on, let's get out of here."

"What, you mean, leave the party?" Sid asked, clearly surprised at the girl's boldness.

"Yes."

"But aren't you in charge?"

"So I'll appoint someone else." Now it was Nadine's turn to grin.

"I thought you weren't interested in becoming another one of my 'conquests,' Nadine."

"I never said that I was. Come one, let's go to the café." Now it was Sid's turn to follow as his escort led them back inside. She took a brief aside with Sheena, appointing her to the new position of authority, and calmly walked out the front door. Sid followed close behind, wondering to himself whom was seducing whom.

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Helga pulled the car up to the biggest window, where the man who would officiate this ceremony promptly stopped the music. "Here we are, now. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today join this man and woman in. . .er, excuse me Miss. But is your groom all right? He appears to look a bit under the weather. Perhaps-"

"Criminey, what is with you people! I already told the last clown that he's just a little drunk!" Helga looked over at Arnold, who wore an expression of total relaxation. And why shouldn't he? He was probably enjoying the sleep of the dead! "Okay, make that a lot drunk. He'll be fine. Won't you baby?" She turned her back to the window, obscuring Arnold from view. "Honey, we're going to get married now."

"Oh, uh right. I do." Came a suspicious sounding voice.

"No not yet Football Head. Sheesh! We have to wait for the ceremony!" Helga turned back to the man standing behind the window. "Sorry about that. Just a little case of wedding jitters, nothing serious."

"I hope you'll pardon my saying, madam. But this is all most irregular."

"Irregular!" Helga shouted, fighting down the urge to grab the man by the neck and shake. "We're in a freaking drive-thru chapel! For God's sake, if this is normal, then I'd hate to know what abnormal really is! Now you listen to me and you listen good, donut hole! My plastic was approved the same as everyone else's, so do you think you could just get to the part where we say 'I do?' Because I really don't think the couple behind us is going to wait for the honeymoon!" Helga swung her rear view mirror in his direction so that he could get an eyeful of the next customers in line, who seemed bent on sharing a tender and intimate moment regardless of whether anyone else wanted to see it or not. The car rocked back and forth like an amusement park ride. For the woman's sake, Helga briefly hoped that the car wasn't a stick shift.

"Oh my!" The justice or priest or whatever he was seemed most bothered by commotion being caused. "Very well, then, perhaps we should make this quick. Do you have the rings?"

"Right here." Helga placed the diamond studded band on her own finger, then worked its plainer twin onto Arnold's own ring finger. She had to struggle a bit to get his on properly, but with a little effort, the deed was done.

"Okay then. We'll do the short version. Do you, er. . .Arnold Short, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, etcetera, etcetera, till death do you part?"

For effect, Helga elbowed her suitor in the ribs, then put the question to him more directly. She turned away again, knowing she had to make it believable. "Arnold! The man asked you a question! Don't you want me, Arnold? Don't you want me to be yours, forever?"

"Yes, I do." Came a suspicious voice yet again. Helga shut her eyes, hoping her ridiculous impersonation of Arnold wouldn't be questioned with the ruckus going on behind her. Clearly the place was busy and she prayed that they would just push her through.

"And do you, Helga Pataki, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, and so on and so on?"

"Yes! Of course I do! I always have! I would never take anyone else! I-"

"That will suffice, Miss Pataki." The man presiding over their union chuckled. "And by the power invested in me, I hereby pronounce you man and wife. Thank you for choosing the Better Off Wed chapel. You may now kiss the. . .oh." He trailed off, finding Helga already engaged in what was clearly an emotional kiss. She applied her lips against Arnold's firmly. And even though his current state left him unable to kiss her back, Helga still knew that this was the start of something wonderful. With no small amount of effort and willpower, Helga withdrew from Arnold and focused on completing the task at hand. She pulled her car to the last window where she signed for the charges and then quickly departed. As Helga pulled out of the chapel and began speeding down the road, the reality of everything she had just accomplished finally began to set in. After fifteen years of obsession and planning and dreaming and scheming and trying to bring it to an end, only to once again retreat behind a wall of cowardice, she had finally overcome the odds. She did it. She had Arnold. Signed, sealed, and delivered. Half a mile later, as she made her way to a motel she had booked, she rolled down her window and screamed in delirious happiness.

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"So that's it?" Rhonda asked, purring happily as Arnold settled against her. He flipped himself over and allowed himself to sink into the sofa, his arms reaching out to grasp Rhonda's svelte frame.

"That's it. Kind of anti-climatic, if you think about it." Arnold answered.

"Maybe, but it kind of fits her style. I mean, it's crazy." Rhonda smirked.

"No doubt about that. But what can I do? She's always been this way. Passion over rational thinking."

"But you still love her anyway?"

"Yes." Arnold replied without hesitation.

"Even after what she did to you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because that's what it means to love someone. Love doesn't blame. Love doesn't hold accountable. I just can't believe that it's going to end like this. Not if Helga really loves me like she said she did."

"And if she doesn't?" Rhonda pressed.

"Then she isn't the woman I think she is." Arnold managed.

"Then what about us?" Rhonda's voice seemed pleading. She turned herself now, bringing herself nose to nose with Arnold. She took his hands in her own, and gave him her best vulnerable expression.

"I. . .don't know." Arnold sighed. "I wish I did, Rhonda."

"Okay." Rhonda sighed. She held him tighter, afraid that if she let go she might never have the chance to hold him again. She opened her mouth to say something when she felt a vibration on her thigh.

"Whoa!" Arnold almost jumped. "What was that?"

"My cell phone. I have it on vibrate."

"I like that! Do it again!"

Rhonda rolled her eyes as she removed the phone from her pocket. "Maybe later." She said before answering her phone. "Yes?" She spoke as she flipped it open.

"Well hello Rhonda dear. I was hoping that you would be in. I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time."

Rhonda's face fell, and she pushed the phone away from her ear, taking a deep breath before answering. "I'm fine, Courtney. But I am a little busy right now."

"I'll make it brief, then. We did good last quarter, but we have to keep pushing to make the magic happen."

Rhonda groaned. "How much do you need this time?"

"Two hundred."

"That isn't going to happen." Rhonda said flatly.

"Perhaps you don't understand." Courtney replied. "I'm trying to make the Gripling name mean something again. I can't do it if my accountant is signing checks that will bounce."

"Perhaps _you _don't understand." Rhonda added pointedly. "I don't have two hundred. You're overestimating how much my parents will let me speak for." Rhonda could actually hear Courtney's pout more than she could actually see it.

"Oh poo! Alright then, one hundred."

"Fifty." Rhonda said a little harder than she had to.

"Fifty! That will barely keep me going for another month!"

"Then I guess you'd better come up with a more long term solution."

"There must be something I can do!" Now Courtney openly pleaded. Rhonda sighed, hating it when Courtney was able to manipulate her so well. She took a look at Arnold, whose expression was very puzzled. "Alright then Gripling, I have an idea that may earn you that hundred."

"Two hundred!"

"We'll see. I want you to do me a favor."

"What sort of favor?" Courtney asked, her voice perking up at the chance to secure her future.

"I want you to find someone. You must have other people from your network that haven't completely abandoned your family."

"Maybe one or two." Courtney sounded very unsure of herself.

"Good, then call in some favors. A girl named Helga Short left this city a few days ago. I want to know where she went. Do whatever it takes. But find her." Rhonda insisted.

"A friend of yours?"

"Not exactly. Anyway, that's my business. You just find Helga. Call me back when you've made some progress."

"Well I'm going to need something to get me started, Rhonda dear."

"I'll e-mail you a photo and some background info on her tonight."

"I meant I'll need some money to keep me going! I'm drowning here!" Courtney snapped back, feeling plucky.

Rhonda growled. "Fine! I'll wire you fifty thousand tonight. But not a penny more until you find Helga for me."

"Can do!" Courtney chimed. "You're always such a good friend, Rhonda."

"Find Helga. Tell me how wonderful I am when I wire you the reward."

"Ta-ta!" Courtney hung up.

Rhonda felt exhausted as she closed the connection and tossed her phone into a chair across the room. "Honestly, Arnold, be careful who you make friends with. You hang out with a person for a few days a year on vacation, and suddenly you're their best friend when most other people pretend not to know you anymore."

Arnold, however, was still very confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand. Who the heck was that?" He asked, the puzzlement all over his face.

Rhonda smiled back at him. "Perhaps the answer we've both been looking for. That was Courtney Gripling. Old money from back East. At least, she was old money. Now she's trying to get her family rich again."

"You mean, Gripling as in Gripling Publishing?" Arnold scratched his head.

"That's her. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer. She can be terribly naïve. But she has a vision. And whatever she's doing, it seems to be working. She isn't rich yet, but she's much better off than she was three years ago."

"And you did that for her?"

"Hardly." Rhonda smirked. "I just got daddy to throw a little cash her way to get her business going. Of course, eventually, she runs out and comes looking for more. It's a nasty business. She has some great talent. And she has to keep coming up with raises and other stuff to keep them from leaving her. She's trying to publish a poetry and prose anthology that contains stuff from everyone she backs. She figures the critics will go nuts."

"So you're going to give her money?" Arnold asked.

"If she comes through for me. I'm calling in a favor. I know she's hiding more resources than she likes to let on. If anyone can find Helga, she will. Because Helga won't be thinking of someone like her to watch out for. She'll be busy hiding herself from you and Phoebe, and perhaps me."

"But Rhonda, Helga might not want to be found." Arnold sighed.

"If anyone can find her, Courtney can. Trust me. I've seen her shop!"

"I'll just have to take your word for it then."

"Trust me." Rhonda smiled at him. "I've got this one covered. Now back to the story. I believe you were going to tell me about when you woke up in Vegas."

"Actually, there's a few things about Helga I've left out, but I'm getting to it, yeah. See, according to Helga, we got back to the motel and. . ."

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Author's Notes

Where to start this time out? I guess I'll start at the beginning. No doubt everyone caught the big Harry Potter reference that was this chapter's title. It kind of set the tone for this entire chapter. Truth be told, I just really, really didn't feel like writing this week, and I had only about half the time that I usually do. Moreover, I've been operating on the assumption that very few people are going to be looking for this with a brand new Harry Potter novel out. Nevertheless, perhaps I'm just hoping to be proved wrong. We'll just have to see what kind of response I get to this chapter. I know it wasn't terribly long, but this was the best I could do on short notice and low motivation. I hope you'll forgive that.

As for how the story unfolds, you can expect to see more with Helga soon, as I have her begin to interact with other characters. As things progress, you'll see more of her relationship with Arnold, which will help to balance the ongoing stuff with Rhonda, I think. Everything should make sense in the end. As for the "true love" idea of Arnold and Helga, well, you'll just have to wait and see. I'm not committing to any kind of happy or sad resolution just yet. Eventually, I'll also reveal Nadine's secrets as well, so sit tight.

Number 6 brings up entirely too many points to go over at 5:30 in the morning. So I'm going to summarize my viewpoint by saying that Helga is an anything but average young woman whose insane obsession and irrational logic have had an additional nine years to fester since the girl we knew from the TV series. She is going to have changed somewhat. Not drastically, not to the point where she is unrecognizable, but she's not the same nine year old girl who went through puberty. Everything is much stronger for her now. I feel that if I don't let Helga grow and change during the past nine years, then I would be putting her inside of a box. I want her to stay three-dimensional, always changing, always learning, sometimes refusing to learn. I want her to be herself. And at the end of the day, this is just my idea of her. Last I checked, no one like Craig Bartlett or Steve Viksten was signing off on my work, and sadly, just because I wrote it doesn't make it official.

And so, at long last, the marriage part is over. I know it was probably a bit less special than most of you expected, but that was the point. I didn't want it to be grandiose. I prefer the anti-climatic approach. I have already written some great romantic moments between those two, as well as some less than romantic ones. I'll dole them out as the story continues.

Courtney finally dropped in! I know it wasn't much of a cameo, but she isn't exactly a main character. Even so, I wanted to bring her in for a brief discussion. You'll see her every now and then. Let me know what you think.

Alright, I can't think of much else to say. I'm tired as heck and want to get to bed. I'm hoping you're all still out there, so if you are, prove me wrong and tell me what you thought. And feel free to send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

07/18/05

5:47AM EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	7. Threshold Of Pain

"Threshold Of Pain"

Various levels of glee coursed through Helga's entire body as she stood at the front desk of a simple _Days Inn_ motel. Having already charged the room up to her father's credit card, she signed the register as Arnold & Helga Short, lovingly crafting each letter, savoring each stroke of the pen, the first time she was writing their names out in an official capacity. Once she had finally finished and been handed a card key to Room 208, she returned to the car to fetch her newly acquired husband. Walking carefully, step by step, Helga carried Arnold across the parking lot and up the outside stairs, locating their room without much trouble. She had to set him back down for a moment when she reached the door, sliding the card key through and kicking the door open ahead of her. Finally, she lifted her love one more time, maneuvering him through the door and over the threshold. The room looked fabulous to Helga as she set Arnold on the bed and turned on the lights to properly illuminate their honeymoon pad. It wasn't overly large or fancy, just a bed, some dressers, a television set, and a modest bathroom; but it seemed like paradise to Helga. She twirled herself around in sheer bliss before allowing herself to fall backwards onto the bed, just next to her beloved.

"We made it!" She cried in delight, kicking her heels off and allowing her aching feet some peace as well. "I always dreamed this day would come but the more I walked through life, the more I began to doubt that you would ever look my way. And even though you didn't, and I had to cheat a little bit to get us this far, the important thing is that at long last, we're finally together! Nobody can stop us! We can be anything we want to be!" Her smile nearly split from ear to ear as she rolled onto her side, looking at the boy who still slept peacefully, unaware of everything that had happened tonight, things that Helga had no doubt would change both of their lives for the better. She couldn't help but trace the contours of his face with one of her slender fingers, savoring the feel of his delicate and gorgeous skin, wanting to make a very detailed map exploring every facet of his body, from his elegant, dreamy eyes to the areas that would doubtlessly be the most fun to discover. "I know you don't like me all that much, Arnold. We haven't spoken all that much since junior high, and I can't possibly be on your radar as far as girls you'd be looking to date go. I just hope you'll believe me when I say that I never intended for it to be this way. I wanted it to be different for us. I really, truly did. But I just ran out of other options. What else was I supposed to do? I couldn't just let you walk away and leave me all alone! I would die without you, can't you understand that! Die! Having to live without you would be like having to live without air, or food, or. . .or love itself!" Helga sighed, playing with his hair while she watched him sleep, wondering everything that could possibly be going through his mind at this very moment. Hoping that in some capacity, he could see her in his dreams, perhaps for the woman she truly was, and not the character she played every day to protect herself from the prying eyes and mocking faces of the world around her. That perhaps he could finally know her for the person beneath that veneer of hostility and cruelty, and see the beautiful person inside. She planted a kiss on his cheek, taking his left hand in hers and pressing it to her chest, just over her heart. "I'm in here, Arnold. If anyone can ever see me for who I really am, it must be you. It has to be you. No one else in the world could be capable of seeing it without you to guide them. No one else could penetrate me so deeply and effortlessly. Have you any idea how far inside of me you've plunged? All of it without even trying, I know. Why have I always been so powerless against you? So that even when I'm yelling at you, it's like I can't help myself. Why can't I ever stay angry? For that matter, why can't I show you the loving person inside that I really am? Why is it that no matter how hard I've tried, I always keep one foot in each world?"

"Maybe when all of it is said and done, nothing really matters. Not as long as we have love. As long as we have each other. And even though I know you're going to be upset with me when you wake up, well, I guess I just know that you'll forgive me, somehow. Because I know that you do care about me. You showed me that tonight, at the party. And even though it may not be the easiest thing in the world for you to see, I hope you'll believe me when I say that we belong together. We complete each other, Arnold, I know we do. I just ask that you give me the chance to prove it to you." Helga took a deep breath, before hesitantly lifting herself back off the bed. "I'd better go get the rest of our luggage. I'll be back in just a minute, okay?" She blew him a kiss before heading to the door, taking one step outside and then turning back. "Stupid heels." She mumbled to herself, sitting on the edge of the bed and fastening the oppressive shoes back onto her aching feet before stepping back outside. She nearly tripped as she passed through the doorway, the toes on her right foot digging into the balcony sharply. "Ow!" She growled, walking a little more surely as she had when carrying her precious cargo only a few minutes before. Helga absently wondered why all of a sudden the effort seemed to require so much more concentration. "Heel, toe. Heel, toe. Heel, toe. Heel, toe." She whispered to herself as she finally made it down the staircase and across the lot to her Fiesta, where she opened the trunk and removed the two suitcases that contained the remainder of her wardrobe and a few supplies that she felt might come in handy over the course of the night. She found herself unable to keep the grin off her face as her mind continuously explored the notion of spending an entire night with Arnold. She stopped to examine the ring on her finger one last time, running a finger over it that helped to make it a bit more real to her. She found herself sighing in the sheer wonder of it all, needing a constant reminder that it tonight had been real. It was really happening to her. Her lifelong dream had finally come true.

Helga was not surprised when she heard the wheezing sound that seemed to track her wherever she went. She froze in her tracks, feeling a mixture of anger combined with sorrow. Perhaps it was inevitable, but she still found little desire to face the boy who refused to afford her a moment's peace anywhere outside of her own home. She wanted to scream, but what good would it do? Nothing seemed to deter him. He was worse than Arnold. No matter how many times she shouted at him, no matter how many times she socked his glass jaw, he would always come back for more. She did admire him for that, even if he did drive her truly and utterly out of her mind. Much like her own pursuit of Arnold, Brainy was persistent.

Helga set both suitcases down on either side of her and whirled herself around to face the seemingly omnipresent Brainy. He stood there with a blank expression on his face, and Helga began wondering if he was somehow using Interpol to track her movements. "Brainy, I am in a very good mood at this moment." Helga breathed. "And that is why I am going to allow you to keep your limbs intact. Now I'm going to have a little conversation with you, and I expect you to listen to me very, very carefully. Do I make myself clear?"

Brainy continued to stare at her, his eyes moving upwards slightly. A small part of her did feel sorry for the boy. Even after all these years, he still had poor posture and he couldn't seem to stop the wheezing whenever he breathed. She squashed the thoughts under a mental steel-toed boot and attempted to speak to him on a level he could understand. "Ok, Brainy. Fine, I get it. You're following me around because for reasons I don't even want to begin trying to comprehend, you have some strange kind of fascination with everything I say and do. That's your prerogative. But regardless, you have to stop it now, all right? Things are different now. We aren't kids anymore, none of us are. You've got to, well, find something that will give your life more purpose than stalking me. Do you understand?"

Brainy wheezed at her, not moving a muscle or uttering a word, and Helga began to wonder if she were speaking to a person or a brick wall. "Hey, I'm talking to you!" Helga said more forcefully. "I said it's time for you to move along! Happy trails! Get along little doggies, it's your misfortune and none of my own! What is it with you!" Again, Brainy made no response, merely standing his ground and looking up at Helga with the same expression he always favored her with. "Look," Helga said in annoyance, quickly growing angry. "I don't know what your deal is with me. I never have known, and frankly I don't give a crap!" Helga flashed her ring finger at him, trying to drive her point home. "It's done, Brainy. It's done. I'm married. I'm married to the only man in this world that I could ever love, and nothing is going to change that. You heard me. Things are going to be different for Helga G. Pata. . .er, Helga P. Short from this point onward! I'm not going to be unhappy anymore, do you hear me? I'm going to live my life the way I deserve to! Can't you understand that!" Helga began pacing back and forth, desperately wanting to drum some sense into the boy so he would stop turning up everywhere she went.

And still, Brainy stared at her, wheezing with each breath. It was enough to drive Helga insane. The idea of doing much more than giving the guy a taste of Ol' Betsy began to spread through Helga's mind. "What is it with you!" Helga shouted, her patience gone. "Don't you have anything to say to me at all! Anything!" Silence greeted her, save for the sound of asthmatic breaths being drawn in and out. "Oh, I get it. You don't approve, is that it? You don't like it that I just happened to basically kidnap Arnold? That I drove him out here without his permission and married him without his consent? That I've put him into a marriage that he has no say over? Is that your problem! Huh! Well you listen to me, Brainy. Because if you expect me to feel any sorrow or remorse over that, you'll have a very long wait indeed." Helga found herself shaking as she began to preach at Brainy's unmoving form. "Ever since I was old enough to be self-aware, I have been keeping track of everything the universe has made me suffer through. Oh, I'm not talking about little things like having a pain in the ass teacher or getting a pimple. I'm talking about the big stuff. Like giving me Bob and Miriam as parents. And Olga as a sister. And, criminey, for having me born into such a shitty family to begin with! For having to be completely self-sufficient since I was seven. For every time someone muscled in on my territory. For making the only inspiration in my writing be my unrelenting desire for a boy who could never love me. For not leaving even the tiniest bit of beauty in my face. For the small breasts, for my irritable bowels, for my stringy hair, for the baby fat that won't disappear no matter how many sit-ups I do. For my horrid luck, for my cowardly nature, for whatever it is about me that makes me so thoroughly unlovable. I have been keeping a long, detailed list of everything the universe has done to me, Brainy. And you know what? I've called in a favor. And if you don't agree with that, then I'm afraid I just don't know what to tell you. Maybe you just can't understand."

And as Helga sadly expected, Brainy contained to stare at her, breathing in his trademark way. He looked unmoved. Perhaps he was unmovable. On the verge of tears, Helga exploded. "You know what, Brainy? Forget you. I don't have to justify myself to you, anyway. If you don't like it, then that's your problem. But I didn't have a choice! What would you have me do? Let him walk out of my life forever! Let him shuffle me off to some meaningless existence where I would write depressing poetry on a love that could never be and then become an old cat lady! Let him leave with the best part of me! No! I simply could not allow it! Not after everything I've been through! Not after everything I feel! I couldn't let that happen! And I don't care what you or anyone else has to say about it!" Helga screamed, probably waking up many of the guests in the motel. "I had a right! I have every right to secure my own happiness! I have every right to make Arnold mine! I have every right. . ." Helga fell to her knees, her conviction gone. She clasped her face in her hands in a desperate attempt to keep any tears that might come from humiliating her further. "I have every right. . ." she kept whispering to herself, trying to ignore a small voice inside her head that was mercilessly questioning the few shreds that remained of her sanity.

As Helga slowly began to compose herself, she could hear Brainy's ragged breathing grow louder, and she unsheathed her eyes to find him standing over her, carrying the suitcases and looking at her with a concerned expression. Feeling completely overwhelmed, Helga couldn't stop her arms from reaching out and wrenching the luggage away from him, causing the poor to teeter backwards several steps. "Just go home." She begged, her conviction spent. "Please. Just go home, Brainy. Go home and forget about me. I'll be fine." She lifted herself off the ground before Brainy could react and began moving quickly back in the direction of the motel. She could hear him slowly following her, and she stepped out of her heels, leaving them behind in an effort to stay ahead of him. She raced up the stairs, tripping but recovering before she lost her balance, and she shut the door firmly behind her, setting both locks, turning out the light, and drawing the curtain. She couldn't take her bridal gown off fast enough, and she ripped off every last stitch of clothing except for a pair of plain white panties. Helga tore open her suitcase, throwing clothes over her shoulder until she got to one of her slips, which she shoved herself into as though the building were on fire. Feeling a little better, she walked over to the bed and pulled the covers down on the side Arnold wasn't occupying, then worked him underneath before making room for herself. She gave thought to undressing him but decided not to bother, he probably wasn't in so deep a sleep by this time and she didn't want him waking up just yet. Under the covers, Helga felt herself clutching his warm body tightly, her legs scissoring his own so he couldn't get away. She needed him at that moment to remind her that all of this had been worthwhile. She allowed her tears to wet the fabric at his shoulder, and even though she knew that Arnold couldn't hear her, she found herself whispering a thousand promises into his ear, and twice as many pleas for forgiveness.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_Have you ever noticed how everything going on in your life seems to culminate when you're driving down the freeway? I sometimes find myself arriving at wherever it is I was driving to, and I can't even remember how I got there. I was so busy thinking about my Mom, or my Dad, Carl, Darren, Dr. Dave, Courtney. . .it's a wonder I haven't killed myself, or worse, someone else? How do our brains manage to do something as complex as driving down a crowded highway at fast speeds without us giving it any conscious thought? It's like we can just compartmentalize anything we need. And that's just the tip of the iceberg._

_Have you ever walked through the streets of New York City? You might come across someone just lying on the ground, helpless, and no one stops to see if they're okay. They just keep walking. I just keep walking. It's not something I'm proud of, and it goes against my nature. But the foot traffic is so heavy that I don't think I could stop if I wanted to. It's like being on an escalator. Whether you walk up it or not, you're going to end up at the next floor. It amazes me how this kind of thing is so ingrained in our culture. Why do we treat each other less like human beings and more like, well, obstacles. We're always in such a hurry to get somewhere. Life's too short and all that. And I understand where those people are coming from, really I do. I'm only twenty-one years old, and already I can't figure out where most of my life has gone. What am I going to do when I'm my mother's age! Ugh, why do I get the feeling that I'm going to be getting a phone call from her over that line?_

_Why do we make our lives so short? I mean, we get a good seventy or eighty years if all goes well, right? Sure, it isn't an eternity. But if there are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year! If you only lived to be seventy, you have like well over twenty-five thousand days in your life. That's still a long time. But we're always in a hurry. Now okay, we all spend about a third of our life sleeping. Can't do much about that. And even though we aren't really getting much accomplished during those times, hey, it sure feels good, right? Okay, so if I'm doing my math right, that's still over seventeen thousand days. But our problem is that we've garbaged up our lives with so much junk that we don't leave enough left over for what's really important. How many people do you know who work at least ten hours of overtime a week? Maybe you are one of those people! And sure, the money is great, but think of the time you're taking away from your family and friends, people who really care about you. I've talked to so many people who say the take on long hours at work so that they can provide a better lifestyle for their children. And I'm not trying to guilt trip you on that. Sometimes it's even necessary. But please, ask yourself what's more important, being able to afford shiny things, or spending time with your family as a whole. Sometimes, you do have to work a lot, and it can't be helped. But try not to make it a habit. I mean, I love my Mom, but I really wish she had been around more when I was younger. But she worked in a hospital, and I'm sure you don't need me to tell you what the hours can be like in one of those. But even when she did work a double shift, even when she couldn't spend as much time with us as she wanted to, she was always there for us. If we had a question or a problem or just needed a good old-fashioned hug, my mom was always there for us. And I didn't get away with too much either. Not that I didn't try from time to time. _

_I guess what I'm trying to say is that we're so preoccupied with stuff that we sometimes miss what's important. And even though I'm kind of going through an identity crisis right now, I'm doing my best not to lose sight of the things that matter most to me. The people and things that make me who I am. I need to remember that stuff. So that when I tell people my name is Ginger Foutley, I know who that person is. Who that person is supposed to be. _

_A word of advice to the rest of the young people out there.__ Be careful when you fall in love. Even when it's with a wonderful person, it's going to lead to a lot of lost sleep and existential thinking. Of course, if you're lucky like me, you might find a job where you get paid to exorcise your demons for the world to see. So if you happen to pass by me on the freeway, go ahead and toot your horn. If I can keep my mind off auto-pilot, I might even honk back._

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"So that's everything that Helga told you about?" Rhonda asked. "I mean, before you woke up." Rhonda asked, literally on the edge of her seat.

"Yeah, that pretty much covers it." Arnold smiled. "If there's anything else, she didn't feel like mentioning it to me."

"I never noticed Brainy stalking her when we were kids."

"Me either. But then, Helga was never someone I paid a large amount of attention to. Whenever I did, it usually just ended up in her yelling at me a lot."

"It was something she was pretty good at, wasn't it?"

"No argument there. But she didn't turn out so bad." Arnold added.

"I suppose you would know. After all, you were married to her."

"She is a whole person. I mean, there's more to her than the yelling and name calling and threatening. She's not really the bully she likes everyone to think she is. She's got a lot of love in her when she chooses to show it. It's just that she doesn't like to show it very often."

"I believe you." Rhonda smiled. "To be honest, her loving you isn't that hard to swallow at all. She always did do a rather poor job of hiding it."

"You mean you knew?" Arnold's jaw dropped.

"Yup." Rhonda's grin broadened.

"Since when?"

"Since we were nine years old. Most of us girls knew. It's just that we really didn't care, Arnold."

"You didn't use it to humiliate her?"

"I couldn't much see the point." Rhonda explained. "We all had crushes at one point or another that we'd rather remain a secret. Helga can be a real fool sometimes, but she isn't stupid. If I had let her secret out, she would've turned around and revealed a secret of my own. Besides, I had a lot bigger fish to fry back then. If I have to choose between taking a pot shot at Helga or doing something to elevate my own image, I'd rather elevate my own, thanks. Helga is the type to ruin her own image, anyway. And she was never one of us."

"I never understood that. I know she's rough around the edges, Rhonda. But she is a girl. Why didn't you let her in?"

"She didn't want to be let in, Arnold. She preferred to play the lone wolf."

Arnold growled to himself, standing up. "Of course. She's always been too busy writing her tragedies to give the rest of the world a chance."

"Do you think that's why she left you?"

"Maybe part of it." Arnold said bitterly. "Helga is the type of person who just, well, she can't be happy being happy. I don't know why, but it's just how she is. She told me how all her life she had just wanted me to love her, and shortly after I did, it was like she couldn't be around me anymore."

"The course of true love never did run smooth." Rhonda quoted.

"I thought you were here to try and convince me that I'm better off without her." Arnold smiled at her, a smile he knew that Rhonda adored.

"I'm here to help you be happy. Now if you want to cloud the issue with facts, then okay, Helga is technically my competition. And I'm not trying to do her any favors here. So if you're looking for my professional opinion, then you should be with Helga _if _being with her is what truly makes you happy. However, I hope you'll keep some stuff in your mind."

"Like what?"

"Regardless of anything that has happened or may happen between us, do you regret that Helga is gone? Deep down inside, are you relieved?" Rhonda questioned him.

"I want her back." Arnold whispered. "Even if we hurt each other, we're still good together. I've never known a woman like her, I don't think anyone else is like her."

"I believe you." Rhonda nodded. "Right then. Now, regardless of everything that has happened and may happen between you and Helga, do you regret the two of us breaking up?"

Arnold walked to the window, looking out at the streets below. A little girl in a yellow dress was playing hopscotch on the sidewalk. The traffic was moderate. There was a small, hole in the wall bar with a few patrons, but it was too early for the regular bar crowd. Arnold couldn't help thinking of the streets of the neighborhood he grew up in, and how little things had changed since he was in grade school. But then, why should it. It's the people that change, not the places. "Yes." He finally answered plainly. "We took a coward's way out."

Rhonda nodded. "Do you love Helga?"

"Yes. I've never known any love like hers before. It was. . .she just does everything so intensely, and it's like she does things without thinking them through, or she overthinks them. She just can't do anything in the middle."

"Why do you love her?"

Arnold sighed, feeling unsure about how to answer the question properly. As he considered the matter, however, the answer became as plain as day. "Have you ever seen her cry?"

"Helga? No, not that I can recall. I didn't see much of her. I remember when we were younger, she used to be kind of cruel and sarcastic. Not exactly someone I enjoyed hanging around. And in high school, well, she was just quiet, not that we were even close to being in the same social circles."

"Well, I have. I've seen her cry. And it's. . .if you ever see it, you know that she's real underneath it all. You get an idea of who she really is. And you can believe in her. I can remember that more than anything, because she let me see her in a way she doesn't want most people to. And I held her until she didn't feel so overwhelmed anymore. It was the first time I really believed her when she said she loved me."

"If you don't mind my asking, why was she crying?"

"Because I didn't believe her. She's so fragile underneath, so afraid to give herself fully to anyone or anything."

"But she really is capable of love?"

"Like no one else."

Rhonda lifted her glass and quickly finished its contents before mustering the courage to ask her final question. "Do you love me?"

Arnold turned towards Rhonda, looking into her eyes and seeing a girl who desperately didn't want to be disappointed, but who also realized she might not have a choice but to experience that disappointment to its fullest. "Yes." Arnold nodded. "And I'm sorry."

"Don't you ever be sorry for loving me, Arnold." Rhonda replied. "Now, why do you love me?"

"Because I've never known anyone quite like you either. You not afraid to admit when you're wrong. I know you weren't always like that. And you have something in common with Helga. You always push me to be more than I am. I really like that about both of you. But I think what I like about you the most is that you always know just what I need. Maybe that's different than Helga and I. You and I were together so long it's almost as though we're natural extensions of each other. Helga and I had only gotten started."

"What, it doesn't help that I'm easy on the eyes too?"

"No question about that helping. Come on Rhonda, you know I love the way you look, and I can never get enough of the way it feels when we hold each other. But don't ask me to try and compare that to Helga, because I can't. I really love the way she feels too. And there's no way to compare. It feels different with both of you, and it's not really a case of one feeling better than the other." Arnold explained. "But what about you? Do you love me?"

"I can't imagine loving anyone else." Rhonda said with a lot less effort that one would expect.

"Even after I just admitted to being in love with someone else? It's not exactly fair to you, Rhonda."

"Maybe not. But it also means that my case isn't hopeless. You said yourself that loving Helga does not mean that you don't love me. And I believe in you. I believe that I still have a chance to make things right between us."

"What if I want to be with Helga?"

"I can't make that decision for you. I can only hope that whatever you decide in the end, that you won't forget how I'm right here in front of you, willing to love you forever. Maybe it's not what you need to be happy, and maybe it is. But don't take me or send me away without knowing for sure it's what you want."

"You know, Rhonda, I have a lot of respect for you." Arnold sighed.

"I should hope so, after all we've been through!" Rhonda added with a slightly indignant tone.

"I know, but here. . .you're really putting yourself on the line. Even though you could lose. I admire that."

"I want us to be together for the right reasons, if it happens." Rhonda agreed. "Not because it was convenient. Anyway, that's enough drama. I want to know what happened that morning when you woke up in Helga's arms."

"That's not really something I like remembering. . ." Arnold blushed.

"Too bad! Spill!"

"Okay, okay. Well, it was a typical morning in Las Vegas as the sun came up. . ."

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Author's Notes

And here we are at the end of another chapter. I'm going to start off by apologizing that I couldn't squeeze a Sid/Nadine scene in here. I wanted to, really. But it was a choice between sleep and that, and sleep won the battle. I was thrilled to see that people like the stuff I've started with Nadine, and that the response to Courtney has gone well too. This could shape up to be a great story after all!

I feel like I've finally gotten some of the biggest scenes in this act of the story off my chest with this chapter. There's still plenty more to go, of course, but now I feel like I'm getting somewhere, and that's definitely a help. And it would appear from the stats page that I'm no longer losing viewers, so I guess it's safe to say that this story has officially hit its core audience. And there was much rejoicing!

Ok, so what to say this time? Um, the chapter was written mostly to songs by Pink Floyd. I find inspiration in all sorts of places! I'm glad that people are finally coming around to accept the version of Helga that I'm presenting. I endeavor to keep her a three dimensional person that changes with time, yet I never want to lose sight of the little girl she remains from an emotional standpoint. This, perhaps, may make her the antithesis of Rhonda, a character many people seem to enjoy reading about in this story but whom most of you are probably plotting against. I try to keep a variety of characters involved and throw in curveballs like Ginger and Courtney, the idea is to keep this from being a story that isn't like every other Arnold/Helga romance or angst fic you've ever written. In the end, I want people to walk away feeling they got something new and exciting.

I'm also pleased to see that people came out to support me in my hour of need. As I feared, it wasn't quite as popular a week as it could've been, but I still did respectable. I didn't expect to get nearly as many readers as I did, so I consider that to be a good thing. I just hope that I can hold the momentum. But things must be looking up, if Number 6 can finally let go of his pre-conceived ideas of Helga, I must be doing well. Ugh, why is it that I can never say more in these things because I'm so tired. Next week, I've got to try doing this earlier.

Okay, you know the drill by now. Reviewing the fic is the only thing I get for my time working away at this, so be kind and let me know what you think. I love to hear from my fans. And even people who don't enjoy my work. So send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

07/25/05

3:55AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	8. The Morning After

"The Morning After"

Sunrise stretched out over the lonely desert, spreading its warm golden ways over a sprawling tourist attraction where people came to worship neon and other activities that most people found it difficult to do in their local communities. As the age-old saying put it, "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." This was a motto that the young woman formerly known as Helga Pataki had seemed to embrace without fail, and the night's events had turned out in her favor. Everything seemed to be turning out as she had planned. Perhaps not exactly, the entire affair hadn't been without its share of speed bumps, but the important fact remained. She was now married. United with the only man she'd ever really loved. And as she dreamed a little dream about the bright future that awaited her, the sun began its slow creep through the crack between the window curtains, it's warm fingers marching toward the bed. Under the covers, Helga clutched her unwitting groom in a rather tight embrace, dreams of her new life with Arnold running through her head at a breakneck pace.

But it was Arnold who began to stir as sunlight streamed across his hair. It was not the same effect he was accustomed to back home, where a skylight overhead would bombard him all at once with the promise of a new day. Some mornings were easier to face than others, in Arnold's experience. But this one was pleasant. He had the sensation of something warm and soft pressed against him. Something that had a delectable scent. Not wanting to open his eyes, he simply allowed his mind to wander, falling back into that state of floating between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Helga gently yawned herself, clutching the warm bundle against her even tighter. She wanted to fight consciousness and remain in the fantasies of her dreams forever. But once her brain began booting up, the sensations were just too wonderful to ignore. She could feel Arnold melting into her arms, her entire body threatening to melt as well. Try as she might, Helga still had trouble reconciling the notion that she and Arnold were now man and woman. For so long, she had dreamed of this moment. When she could wake up and start her day with him at her side. And now it was happening! That thought jolted her mind enough that she risked opening her eyes. Yes, it was all true! He was still there, asleep in her arms. So beautiful, so precious, so. . .Arnold. Her fingers darted into his unspeakably lovely hair, matted across his forehead for an unkempt yet alluring look. "Good morning, Arnold." Helga whispered into his ear, planting a small trail of kisses on his cheek. "I missed you."

It was to Helga's surprise that a response greeted her ears. "Good morning, Rhonda." Arnold's eyes remained shut, still only half awake. Helga had to resist the urge to boot his ass out of the bed and onto the floor. The absolute nerve! How dare he call her Rhonda! _What's she have__ that I don't_? Helga questioned herself with a dangerous look in her eye. _Everything?_ A small voice in her head replied. _Shut up_. Helga shot back.

"Guess again, Football Head." Helga smiled widely, almost too wide, her innocent look actually serving to make her appear dangerous.

"Mmm." Arnold yawned, one of his arms moving to explore the girl behind him. Helga's breath caught when his hand skirted her breast, but to her disappointment, he moved upwards, resting on her shoulder. "That's-" again, Arnold yawned, and he struggled to open his eyes. "-a name I haven't heard in a long time, Rhonda. The only person who ever called me that was. . ." Arnold opened his eyes. He saw a blonde girl with long hair smiling expectantly at him.

"Me?" Helga finished his thought, which was convenient, because so many thoughts began to dance in Arnold's head simultaneously that the ability to form coherent sentences seemed to temporarily abandon him. "Wakey, wakey, Arnold. It's time for a little breakfast. Coffee, tea, or me, hmm?"

Arnold's scream was so long and so prolonged, Helga couldn't fathom how someone who was so short in comparison to her was able to belt so much out.

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Several hundred miles away, two teenagers sat at a small table inside of Dolly's Donuts, drinking large coffees, enjoying fresh pastry, and trying to recover from the wild and sometimes emotional night they had just experienced both at Rhonda Lloyd's party and the hospital, in search of their respective best friends.

"Did you just hear something?" Gerald asked, setting his powdered donut down on a plate.

"No." Phoebe replied, taking a sip of her coffee and staring out the window.

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"Nice to see you again too, Arnold." Helga laughed to herself. "Geez, it's about time you woke up. Last time I listen to Curly about dosages on that stuff."

"What in God's name is going on?" Arnold shouted, looking generally frightened. "What happened? Where are we?"

"Las Vegas, Football Head." Helga breathed in. Even better than she'd hoped, the air tasted fresh and new. Like it wasn't the same air it had been only a day or so ago. "The city of sin. And speaking of which, wouldn't you like to-"

"NO!" Arnold yelled, trying to disentangle himself from Helga.

"Oh, but you're so good at cuddling!" Helga chided. "Anyone that good must be even better at-"

"NO! Ahh! I can't believe this! How could we have possibly slept together!"

"Oh we did much more than that, Arnoldo. _Much more_." Helga flashed him her most wicked grin.

"We couldn't have!"

"Oh, all in due time, my dear. Now, now. There's no reason to be shy. After all, we're man and woman now." Helga flashed her left hand at him, showcasing the elegant wedding band now secured around her ring finger. Arnold looked in horror at his own hand to see its counterpart."

"Oh no!"

"We can do anything we want. We can kiss. We can touch. We can even f-"

"Ugh!" Arnold jumped away from his wife and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He immediately sank to the floor and began rocking himself. It just couldn't be happening. He couldn't be married to Helga. He wasn't ready for this with someone like Rhonda. If it happened with Helga, Arnold knew he'd be dead within a week. She was just too much. Even as he began trying to form a plan on how to deal with this, he could hear Helga's laughter coming from the other side of the door.

"You can run all you like, bucko, but you can't hide!" And Arnold knew she was right. He didn't know how she did it, but she had. And as Arnold sat on the bathroom floor, staring up at the light above, he began wondering what he could possibly do to get out of this. "Open up, _honey_." Helga emphasized the pet name. "I'm all yours." As Helga began to playfully plan on the door, Arnold realized that he would have to start thinking a lot faster.

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Sid and Nadine sat in a booth over at Big Al's Tasty Café, looking at each other awkwardly. Now that Nadine had taken the initiative and left the party with someone as scandalous as Sid, she knew something was expected of her. But for some reason, her impromptu date wasn't turning on his usual charm. Instead, he merely sat across from her, nursing a coffee and staring. The effort caused Nadine to feel self-conscious, and she kept her eyes focused in the general direction of the table. The general consensus of most of the women Nadine had talked to explained that Sid always knew the right things to say and do, and that he also had a habit of having a conversation with your breasts. Apparently, he had changed his ways, because he seemed fascinated with her face, and Nadine had to make a conscious effort not to blush. She didn't consider herself unattractive, but she knew she wasn't this eye catching. Whatever Sid's game was, he wasn't just admiring a pretty face. She got the distinct impression that her date was trying to decipher exactly what was happening behind her eyes.

"Would you mind not staring at me so much?" Nadine asked politely. "It's starting to creep me out."

"I'm sorry, it's just. . .I've worried about you Nadine. When you tried to blow me off earlier, I suddenly realized how little I really know about you. Heck, how little I've even heard you say in the last few years."

"I talk plenty." Nadine defended herself. "And I have my hobbies."

"Still dreaming of becoming an etymologist?"

"I like bugs better than people." Nadine said flatly, knowing how insulting the remark sounded but deciding she really didn't care. But when she saw the expression on Sid's face, she decided an explanation was in order. "It's not like I hate people or anything. It's just. . .when I take a step back and watch insects, I understand exactly what they're doing. It's fascinating to watch them go about their day to day chores. But they're not like people. They don't get bogged down with a bunch of nonsense like people do. When I step back and watch our high school class, I just don't understand them. I can't get involved with all that extra stuff. I've never cared about sports or fashion or romance or concerts or. . .or whatever the newest big thing is. That's just not who I am."

"Then tell me who you are, Nadine." Sid replied calmly.

"That's just it! Look at me! I don't even know what I'm doing here with you! I came here because I think I needed to tell someone something, anything. Right now I feel like I don't even understand myself. Why of all people should I want to tell my problems to you?"

"Because I'm willing to listen? Because I'm willing to hear what you have to say and not judge you?"

"Why do you have to keep doing that? Why do you have to be so sweet?"

"I'm not trying to be sweet. I'm trying to be a friend. Look, Nadine, this is entirely about you. No strings attached. No ulterior motives. I don't have any designs on you, I don't expect you to pay me back with sex or anything. But tonight, we all more or less became adults. Maybe we have a few weeks this summer to bum around and by teenagers one last time, but we have to be ready to either go to college or start our lives by the fall. People are going to be leaving come July and August. The party tonight, it might be the last time we're all together as the kids of this neighborhood. We've made our mark, we've paved the way for others, now all that's left for us to do is step aside and let some other grade schoolers have their day in the sun. And I don't want to leave you like this."

"Why?" Nadine questioned. "No offense Sid, but you and I aren't exactly friends. We're acquaintances, really. Two kids who happened to grow up in the same neighborhood."

"Exactly. And in that, we're comrades. We're supposed to help each other. If your neighbor's house was burning, you wouldn't deny them a fire extinguisher because you don't know them very well, would you?"

"Of course not."

"Well there we are then." Sid smiled. "Someone I know is having some trouble. And I'm going to help her with it."

Nadine hid her expression by taking a drink of water. She muttered an expression of gratitude and opened a menu in front of her, trying to hide herself from Sid's view. "It might be more than you bargained for." She finally said at an audible level as her eyes darted over the dining selections, never really looking at any of them.

"I guess that's just a chance I'll have to take." Sid said as he began perusing the menu himself. But a small part of him began to wonder what exactly he was getting himself into.

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_Hello, Strangers!_ By Ginger Foutley

_Melanie Griffith strolled down Dobson Street a little after 1AM, turning into a bar that was filled with rowdy sounds and raucous laughter. She took a seat at the stool closest to the door and signaled the bartender to bring her a scotch and water. While she waited for her poison, she examined the surroundings of this den of iniquity she had wandered into. The dingy walls were mostly littered with photos of various people in the bar. Melanie assumed it must've been a Wall of Fame or something. Many bars had a theme. Melanie preferred the direct approach. Like the pub that had been featured in "It's A Wonderful Life." That was how she liked to drink. "We serve hard liquor to men who want to get drunk fast, and we don't need any kooks to give the place character."_

_Melanie's scotch arrived and she drank deeply, enjoying the warm feeling that spread throughout her chest as the liquid worked its way down. "You ain't from around here." The bartender said._

_"I'm from everywhere."_

_"That's what they all say. What's your name, doll face?"_

_"Megan."_

_"What are you comin' to a place like this for? This here's a bar for the sad sacks. The types who are only able to laugh when they get a few drinks in 'em. Listen to them. When they first come in, they go on and on about how the can't stand their jobs or their wives or their husbands or they're just down on their luck or whatever's going on in their crummy lives. Then they hang around for an hour or two and drink heartily, and all of a sudden they're the life of the party. Life is worth living again. That's who we serve here. You don't look to down on your luck to me."_

_Melanie looked across the room through the blue cigarette smoke, listening to boisterous conversations of middle-aged men and women pretending they were still in their twenties. "It's illegal to smoke in bars in this state." Melanie said flatly, deciding not to take the bartender's bait._

_"We don't pay laws like that much heed around here. If the state wants to come and shut us down, that's their business. But in the meantime, I've got a business to run, and I'm not about to turn away paying customers because of some feel good law some liberal legislators passed."_

_"You've got an answer for everything, haven't you?"_

_"Being surrounded by alcohol all the time, it makes you think you're smarter than you really are. Tougher too. What, you think you're better than me because you don't work in a bar?"_

_"I never said that."_

_"What the heck makes you so special?"_

_"I'm not. I just wanted my drink. My boyfriend is being a pain."_

_"Possessive type?"_

_"I don't know. Sometimes I just need to get away from him. Haven't you ever wanted to get away from your Old Lady?"_

_"Once or twice."_

_"What's your boyfriend's name?"_

_"Darren."_

_"What's he like."_

_"I don't know. He's nice. He stands up for me when I need someone to. We usually work good. It's not that I want to leave him or anything. I guess sometimes we just need a break from each other. Doesn't everyone?"_

_"So you go to bars?"_

_"Yeah, why not.__ You meet all sorts of interesting people."_

_"Is that where you met Darren?"_

_"No."_

_"You sure don't say much, lady."_

_"Some people like that in a woman."_

_"What about you?"_

_"I like what I like."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?" _

_"I don't know, you figure it out."_

_Melanie emptied her glass and got off the stool, leaving six dollars on the bar. "I've got to get going."_

_"Where are you going to?"_

_"Home."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because that's where Darren is."_

_"I thought you left to get away from him."_

_"I did. But you have to go home sooner or later."_

_"I never did. I just left home one day and never went back."_

_"Maybe someday, I will too. But not today." Melanie walked out the door and started walking back up the street. She was about an hour's walk from the little apartment the two of them were living in. She had a dollar and some change left in her pocket. Darren was back home, playing with the dog and watching Conan O'Brien. They had made it._

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"So that was your first morning?" Rhonda asked, smiling wolfishly at him.

Arnold tried to explain himself. "It was a little bit scary. I really didn't know how to deal with Helga. I mean, how would you feel if you woke up in bed with Stinky and had no idea how you had gotten there. And worse, you were his newlywed bride?"

"_Stinky?_" Rhonda protested.

"It was just an example."

"I know. But _Stinky_? Honestly, Arnold. If any man ever does to me what Helga did to you, it would have to be someone much more. . .appropriate."

"You're not getting jealous, are you?"

"Now he thinks I'm jealous!" Rhonda gasped.

"Are you?" Arnold persisted.

"Of course not!"

"Oh come on, Rhonda. Crazy or not, Helga and I were married."

"And by your own words, it wasn't much of a marriage."

"I don't really know." Arnold sighed. "Do you think I fall in love too easily?"

"Depends. Do you want an honest answer?" Rhonda warned.

"I think that would be for the best."

"Then yes, I think you do. Fortunately, you tend to have extremely good taste. Not only did you have the foresight to choose me as a target for your affections, but you picked Helga as well. Presumably against your better judgment. That means that, for whatever reason, you saw something in Helga that most guys wouldn't see in someone like her. You noticed that there is more inside her than a bitterly hostile young woman. And no one can ever say you fell for her because she's a knockout."

"Hey, that's my wife you're talking about!" Arnold protested.

"Your ex-wife." Rhonda corrected.

"Not for another ten hours or so."

"See that? You do love her. Maybe even more than you think." Rhonda wore a positive smirk.

"I don't think I'll ever understand women." Arnold shook his head.

"Don't feel too bad about it. Few men have ever claimed to understand us. And from the one's I've dealt with, those that did claim to understand us were either fools or liars, and big ones and that."

"So you're saying that there isn't any hope."

"Not really. But hey, it's not like we really understand men either. We just pretend to. At least, I do."

"Why? Wouldn't we have more success in our relationships if we were just honest with each other?"

"We might be, but that would take all the fun out of things, wouldn't it? Besides, not everyone deals with each other as well as you and I. Well, maybe your friend Gerald and Phoebe."

"Um, I wouldn't be too sure about that." Arnold looked guilty.

"Oh, I see!" Rhonda's eyes lit up. "You know something I don't know." She sang, feeling a juicy tidbit was about to come her way.

"Perhaps. But I think I'd like to keep it that way."

"What? Why!" Rhonda pouted.

"It's kind of a private matter that Phoebe confided in me."

"Oh, I get it. Girl talk." Rhonda's giggling threatened to chip away at Arnold's resolve.

"It's not quite like that."

"Whatever you say, Arnold." At that comment, all of Arnold's thought processes stopped.

"Say that again." He said quietly.

"What?" Rhonda grew confused.

"What you just said!"

"Oh. Whatever you say, Arnold."

"Not like that. With a little more passion. Like you did just a minute ago."

Rhonda rolled her eyes as she repeated the line a third time. "There. How was that?"

"That was perfect! You sounded just like her!"

"Who, Helga!"

"Yes! You were. . .wow, that was just so perfect!"

"Well, that's what I always strive for. Perfection is my middle name."

"I thought it was-"

"You know what I meant. I've always been the social leader in our class. Perfection is expected of me."

"Not from me." Arnold touched her shoulder. "I've never expected you to be perfect, Rhonda. I like you just the way you are."

"Right. Perfect."

"You're impossible." Arnold shook his head.

"And all yours. Now, if you ran out on her that morning-"

"I knew I had to get back home to fix this. There was no way I could've possibly married Helga. I was stuck at the moment, but then I figured Grandpa could find a way to get me out of it. And I really needed to talk to Gerald. So I took a shuttle to the airport, and I had Gerald wire me the money to fly home. Of course, as I should've known all too well, Helga was just as busy herself. . ."

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Author's Notes

And once again, I find myself at the end of a chapter of this story. I have to confess to you all something that's been bothering me for some time. This story is getting harder and harder to write every week. This is not to be contributed to a lack of interest on my part, I really enjoy playing with this story in my brain and figuring out how everything is going to come together. But work has just gotten so oppressive the past few weeks that it's having a serious impact on my will to do much outside of there. When my weekend comes, I'm just so excited not to be at work that it's hard to do anything creative. I've taken to getting up early on Friday (which is like Saturday to me if you work a standard Mon-Fri week) and tearing into this story so I can get it over with. I don't like having that attitude, to be honest. But I know if I don't get it done on Friday, it won't get written. And I fear that if I put the story on hiatus, it'll never be finished, so I just keep pushing through.

It is not all difficult, though. Truth be told, I'm having the most difficulty writing the Arnold/Helga scenes as of late. In fact, it was the absolute last segment I wrote for this chapter. It's hard to keep a balance between the Helga we all know and love and what another nine years have done to her. And I'm still expected to show her as someone who is somewhat different yet exactly the same. It's a tall order to fill, believe you me. The stuff that comes most naturally is, ironically, the Arnold/Rhonda content. And they're probably one of the most unconventional pairings here in the HA fandom. I guess I've just taken a shine to Rhonda, I think I enjoy writing someone who is upwardly mobile and sexy and who gets exactly what she wants. It's an altogether different experience than writing Helga, who is always going in so many different directions. When doing her, I also have to keep up with the plurality of her outwardly hostile nature and insecurity vs. the good person she really is inside. And a whole bunch of other factors I guess I won't get into right now for fear of making the Author's Notes longer than the entire chapter. Suffice to say that for those of you not on the creative end of this business, the experience of writing for Helga is less a creative process and more something you somehow live through. If you can walk away at the end of the day and feel like you're still sane and rational, then you've definitely succeeded at, well, something anyway.

The Ginger stuff also comes surprisingly easily. But this time I really wanted to shake things up, and so I wrote, well, a story within a story. I'm not sure if there's a deeper meaning behind that whole thing. I just, well, wanted to do something completely new. When I started writing _Instant Gratification_, I knew I wanted to do something different. I wanted to write a story about Arnold and Helga that no one had done before. And I figured that this whole plot concept was a good start, but I still needed something more. I don't really know what it was that made me decide on this Ginger column, but once I wrote it, I decided that I loved it. And then I found I could do a few, and the whole ball just got rolling. As far as I know, no one has crossed over _As Told By Ginger_ with _Hey Arnold,_ and I found this idea delightful. It allows me to inject elements of the former without doing a full blown crossover fic that would diminish the story I have set out to write. And I get to put my own voice into Ginger's sometimes. I think I'm slowly developing something of a story for her as well, but it's being related in a second-hand kind of way. Overall, I'm very pleased with the result, and while some might argue, I truly feel this fanfic is stronger with her than without.

I have some serious reasons for putting Sid and Nadine together here as a subplot. There's a lot more going on with Nadine than meets the eye, and I don't think a lot of people will see it coming. There's a conclusion I can sense several readers are drawing that may seem obvious to them, but all I can say is that the solution is not readily seen. What's going on with Nadine is a rather large plot point that doesn't factor into the story the way you would expect. As for Sid, I know a lot about him that the rest of you don't know, specifically the position he'll be in at the end of this tale, so just trust me on that one.

So, as you can now no doubt get a clearer picture, it isn't easy to bring you all three to seven thousand words a week. Every week I ask myself if this is going to be the one where I fail to get a new chapter out. And then it gets done, somehow, and I wonder how I could ever have doubted myself. But it's a shaky process. That's why I treasure your reviews and e-mails and IMs so much. They give me the strength to keep going when I just want to curl up instead of writing this story. I hope you'll remember that when you finish this. It really means a lot after being yelled at for 8 and a half hours a day. With that said, I trust you know the drill. Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

08/01/05

5:07AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	9. Love Does Not Boast

"Love Does Not Boast"

Arnold lay horizontally across the full size bed, his eyes positioned toward the speckles on the ceiling. He stared upwards in wonder, too many thoughts running through his head to keep track of properly. The months had been taking a toll, forcing him to reshape some of his earlier conclusions about his newlywed wife. God help him, he was beginning to like her.

It was, of course, a slow process. One that had been helped along by others just as much as Helga herself. But when the two of them strolled out in the evening to have dinner, or walked through the park for an ice cream, or just sat on the front stoop late into the night, talking with neighbors and friends, something began to fall into place. Perhaps Helga was not so different than him. Perhaps they did make a good couple. People tended to give them looks when they were in public. Not stares or whispers, but smiles and waves. People liked them. Perhaps they saw the glow that abounded in Helga as she carried herself in public, her arm hooked in his own. She always looked so happy like that. Or maybe it was just that she was so much more than he had expected. And that she hadn't transformed his life into the living hell that he'd faired. Oh, there were plenty of occasions when he thought he would've hit her if she weren't a girl. He had gone on many a long walk by himself, taking deep breaths and trying to get past whatever she had done to upset and anger him so thoroughly. And then he realized, half of it was on him.

He had resisted her. He had been frightened of her, and looking for an easy way out. And there wasn't necessarily anything wrong with that. Why should he have harbored warm feelings towards Helga? She had kidnapped him, trapped him in a marriage he hadn't even consented to! The only reason he hadn't protested the matrimony in a court of law stemmed from the fact that it was only a temporary inconvenience, and because of the repercussions Helga would've suffered. Maybe she deserved them, but he couldn't bring himself to do it to her. He didn't want her to wind up in jail because of what she did. He didn't want to be responsible for ruining her life. This way, they could just go their separate ways when it was all over. No mess, no legal snafu, no divorce. Just a clean cut ending to their little elopement.

Arnold's thought process was interrupted by a new presence. He cocked his head slightly to the left to see Helga join him. She lounged in a similar fashion, horizontally across their mattress. But she had charmingly positioned herself in the opposite direction, her head next to his but upside-down. "Hi." Helga looked at him thoughtfully, a small smile dotted with an expression of concern.

"Hi." Arnold replied, keeping his eyes focused on his wife.

"What'cha doin'?" Helga asked.

"Nothing. Thinking, I guess."

"Anything good?"

"I haven't decided yet." Arnold smiled. "Where were you?"

"Grocery shopping. Those bags aren't going to carry themselves up here, you know."

"That would mean I have to get up."

"C'mon, Arnold. I braved the grocery store, and I carried the perishables up here myself, but you can bring the rest up and put everything away. My feet are killing me!"

"Are you cooking tonight?" Arnold asked, ignoring the bait.

"Well, I just went out and bought a crapload of food, so I guess I should, doi!" Helga rolled her eyes.

"You know, it's funny. I never figured that you were the type that could cook until about two months ago."

"Well I don't have much choice, now do I? Miriam only puts one meal a day on the table. I'm only eighteen! I've got a hyperactive metabolism! I need to eat way more than that. So it was either spend a fortune on fast food every day, or learn to be self-sufficient. I picked the latter one."

"Well if you don't mind my saying so, it was a good choice."

"Thanks. Groceries." Helga reminded him.

"In a minute. I wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

"Do you think. . .do you think we have a story?"

"What kind of story?"

Arnold propped himself up on his side, to look over at his wife. "I don't know. I mean, we've known each other our whole lives, right?"

"I guess so." Helga agreed. "But it's not like we're exactly old friends or anything."

"Well you were always so mean to me when we were kids. I thought you hated me."

This elicited a crashing sigh from Helga. "I did. Truth be told, I still do."

"Then why-?"

"Because I love you more." Helga whispered. "I've always loved you most of all. The reason I hate you is because I love you."

"I don't understand, Helga."

"It's not very easy to understand. Trust me, after fifteen years, I still don't understand it. But maybe that is our story."

"What, that we don't understand each other?" Arnold inquired. "That's crazy!"

"I know. Hey, do you remember the first time we met?"

"I remember you bullying our whole pre-school class around."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's not rehash our entire past, okay? What did you think of me back then?"

"I wondered how come you were so mean to everyone. Even me. I mean, I always liked you. I thought you were nice."

"I was nice." Helga nodded. "I wanted to be nice. I just wanted to stand out. I wanted to be recognized. You don't know what it was like for me at home, living in Olga's shadow. That kind of thing is devastating, especially when you're just starting school. But nobody cared. They didn't even care if I went to school or not. They didn't need to. They had Olga. I was like leftovers. I was, I am. . .I'm the Danny Devito character from _Twins_. I'm genetic garbage."

"Don't say that, please! Come on, Helga. You run yourself down all the time. Why do you do that?"

"Because I. . .forget it."

"Talk to me, Helga!"

"No. Groceries. Come on, someone is going to make off with them if you don't go and bring them up."

"This is more important. Look, what I'm trying to say is. . .in spite of everything we've said or done to each other, I think we have a story."

"Like what? _Bride of Frankenstein_?"

"No." Arnold sighed. "Just a simple, old-fashioned Boy Meets Girl, I guess."

Helga blinked twice, not sure if she had just heard Arnold correctly. Her heart soared with the eagles. She could feel it beating in her chest so quickly she was afraid it would burst. "Do you really mean that?" She asked.

"Yes."

"I'm serious! Don't toy with me, Arnold, please!"

"I'm not. I'm completely serious. Do you still love me?"

"Always." Helga's voice was the faintest of whispers, nearly inaudible. "I've never even considered loving anyone else."

"Never?" Arnold chuckled quietly.

"Well, maybe not never. But even then, it was only in an effort to not love you. I tried to love other people. Random jocks at school. Movie stars. Nothing worked. Sure, I could stalk any guy at school. It was easy, after doing it to you for so many years. But there was no passion in it. Because I didn't really care. I didn't want any of them. I only wanted you. I've always wanted you and no one else. There are days when the only thing that keeps me alive is the false hope that maybe, someday, you could love me."

Arnold drank in Helga's words, gauging her thoughts and reactions. "How about today?"

"What?" Helga froze in place, trying to process what her husband had just said to her. It had seemed real, but felt too much like the majority of her unfettered fantasies, feverish brain activity that allowed her to relax at night, a respite from the reality of her loveless life.

Arnold reached out with his arm, taking her hand in his. She stared up at him. She knew that she was crying, but it hardly seemed to manner. "This is our story, Helga. And it's high time we opened another chapter."

"Boy meets girl?" Helga asked, unsure of herself. Arnold nodded. "Well, hell, it only took fifteen years and several criminal acts, right?"

"Plenty of time for more."

"Kiss me." Helga insisted.

"I can't, I have to get the groceries."

"The hell with them. Homeless people need to eat too!"

"But what about us?"

"We've got each other." Helga forced the issue, pushing herself nose to nose with her love and moving in for the kill. She was somewhat surprised when he didn't resist her in any way. He pushed back just the right way. And as their lips danced, it was somehow everything Helga had always dreamed it would be, and yet, somehow not. It was gentle and alive. Less passionate than she had always assumed it would be, but somehow right. It was more than right. It was perfect. It was everything she ever could have wanted in a kiss. And it was never-ending. Every time she was certain that he was about to pull away, he was back in all the way. The rest of their bodies moved in tandem, trying to find the right way to hold each other, changing constantly. It was a slow, wondrous learning process.

"Point taken." Arnold admitted when he finally broke off, after what seemed like twenty minutes but had really been only two.

"Why me?" Helga finally asked after the fog in her head began to clear. "Why me, when you could have any girl you want? When I've treated you so badly? When I've broken every rule in order to force this on you?"

Arnold stroked her hair lovingly, planting small flash kisses against her lips, her cheek, and even her nose. Her eyes shut involuntarily, and she soon found herself at Arnold's complete mercy, a strange feeling indeed, as she had always assumed it would be the other way around. "Because you can't help who you fall in love with." Helga's breath caught, and Arnold did his best to relax her by working at the softer flesh on her shoulders and neck. "Helga. . .after Rhonda and I called it quits, I didn't think I could ever love someone else again. Not like that. I thought I was just going to drift from date to date, but never have any real feelings for another girl again. And then you came along and turned my whole life upside-down. Literally."

"I know. I'm sorry, I just. . .felt so desperate!" Helga feebly apologized.

"It doesn't matter now. Just promise me that you'll never do something so drastic again. No matter what your heart may say."

"Don't ask me to make a promise I can't keep." Helga winced.

"What if I stay with you?"

"What?"

"What if I stay? Just because our marriage is only good for ninety days doesn't mean we have to stop there. We can keep seeing each other. We can get married for real!" Arnold grinned.

"You would want that?"

"Of course I would want that! I'm not going to fight you anymore. I'm not going to watch you walk around this place and pretend not to care. Maybe this is crazy. Maybe it's wrong. Maybe I'm a fool. But I just want us to be together from now on. I don't care how it happened. The point is that it did. You've won, Helga. After all these years, you've finally got me."

"You won't leave me?" Helga asked, feeling overwhelmed.

"Only if you leave me."

"Then I'm yours."

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_Does love really mean never having to say you're sorry? I mean, seriously, who came up with that ridiculous notion? Love is a constant series of apologies. It's got to be the only thing in the universe that makes you feel like you're whole and safe, and at the same time makes you feel like the world could crumble around you at any minute. The first time I was in a really serious relationship, I felt so insecure that I thought I might burst. My friends resented me, I missed him all the time, I couldn't concentrate on stuff I was supposed to be working on. My life was an absolute mess! But at the same time, I looked forward to every breath I took. Even when we weren't together, I knew that I was always getting closer to the next time we could see each other. I felt brilliant all the time. You know how people always say how a woman glows when she's pregnant? Well that's exactly what it was like for me. Um, without the morning sickness and extended belly. Even Carl noticed, to say nothing of my mom. There really was love in the air. I felt like the schoolgirl I was. But this was bigger. It wasn't like having a crush. It was serious. We had to struggle not to let it get _too _serious. I wanted to maintain some semblance of my childhood, anyway._

_I didn't understand a lot of it. Some of the finer points of love still escape me, nine years later. Have you ever met anyone who can truly explain love and all of its mysteries? Good luck with that one! I don't even know what it is that makes one guy attractive and another one unappetizing. Human relationships escape me on some levels. I know, that's probably hard to believe, coming from me, but it's true! Even I'm not perfect at this kind of thing. I just try to do the best that I can. Maybe that's all part of the being human routine. Life is a learning process. _

_Being in love is just a state that you have to get used to. And it isn't like riding a bike at all. When you're not in love, when you're a free agent, things are easier for you in some regards, but it's impossible to deny that you're going to be lonely. It just comes with the territory. And when you're back in love again, it's nothing like it was the time before, unless you have the fortune (or misfortune, as the case may be) of falling back with the same person. Love has become such a huge part of my life, and sometimes it feels all encompassing. It threatens to completely take over. Sometimes you just can't help it. Nothing else feels as important as being with the one you love. There's no greater feeling in the world, a perfect drug. It means everything._

_But then, sometimes, you lose it. And you can feel your world shattering around you. What else is there to do? How can you possibly go on? Too many times I've found myself in that position. Heartache is perhaps one of the most emotionally painful things you can go through in life. And worse than breaking up, what about when you're just desperate for someone to love? You need someone you can click with. You need to feel complete. And it's so hard to find someone. Maybe you go out on a date, and you want to like them. And you try, but you just can't. You can't make yourself love someone. No matter how lonely you might be. You can kid yourself. You can pretend. You can fake it. But in the end, you're the one who's going to suffer. You're the one who's acting the fool. And you're just causing hurt. Beyond yourself, think of how the other person will feel. And these are the times that make me afraid of love. I start to fear everything it entails. You're forced to confront the reality that for better or for worse, it is a double-edged sword. You have to do your best with what you're given._

_There is no manual for love. No instructions on how to practice it properly. All you can do is muddle through, and hope that somehow you're doing it right, trusting in the other person to let you know. I guess in that way, it's a lot like sex, only more complicated. Even when sex goes bad, it has the potential to still be good, if there was love behind it. Love gone bad. . .often turns to hate. I resolved long ago never to let myself hate someone. No matter what they might say or do. I don't have to like them, but I won't hate them. We live in a world that is just beginning to learn how not to hate. And even at that, we're still only toddlers. We have a long way to go._

_Is there someone that you love? Then put down this newspaper and go tell them this instant. Tell them, show them, and let me know if they love you back. _

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"That's a very nice story, Arnold, but I thought you were going to tell me about the rest of that morning." Rhonda chided.

"I'm getting to it. It's just, I dunno, sometimes I feel like I need to reassure myself."

"Reassure yourself?" Rhonda questioned. "Of what?"

"When Helga and I were first married, I really, really didn't like her. In fact, I resented her completely. I couldn't get over what she had done to me. I didn't want to be married at all, and especially not to her! The worser part of me wanted to fight back, get revenge against her."

"Did you?"

"Do I ever? No, I took it like a man. I recognized that Helga had some issues that needed working out. I didn't want to hurt her. Not really. In spite of what she had done. Especially once I learned the details. It wasn't a permanent situation. Only three months. Ninety days. I could do that. I could live with Helga. I could be married to Helga. No big deal."

"Uh-huh." Rhonda smirked. "So, what's the reassurance for?"

"She drives me crazy!" Arnold groaned. "Sometimes, I need to remind myself that I'm in love with her. That even though she left me, I've still chosen her. I want her in my life. I feel like we belong together."

Rhonda frowned, then pursed her lips in thoughts. "My, my. She did get under your skin, didn't she? I'll take it, then, that you're choosing her over me?"

"Yes. No. I. . .I still don't know, Rhonda. Helga and I are supposed to love each other, but it feels like all we do is hurt each other. I don't want that for either of us. I want to find a way to make her happy. When we're together, it's like I'm bringing her joy and suffering in the same basket. I just don't understand it!"

"Maybe it isn't something that you can understand. Maybe it's just something you have to live through, to work out. Love is the most complicated thing I've ever had to deal with. And when you consider how many ridiculously fancy parties my parents have thrown over the years, that's saying something. Did you know that my own mother wanted me to be a debutante? The very idea revolted me!"

"Are you serious?" Arnold blinked. "I thought you loved that kind of thing."

"Too old-fashioned. I am my own woman. I do things my way. I'm a trendsetter, Arnold. You of all people should know that. Remember our junior prom?"

"You mean when we stepped out of the limo and half our class laid a path of white roses at our feet?" Arnold chuckled. "How could I ever forget?"

"And when you got to the end of the line, Curly jumped onto your back and demanded satisfaction! That was positively to die for! He's kind of cute, when he's being an idiot."

"Well I'm glad someone got something out of the experience. Mostly I had to endure his barbs through the night because I refused to 'duel' him in the parking lot."

"I seem to recall your being happy with how I handled the situation after the prom ended and we looked for a place to spend the rest of the night." Rhonda reminded him.

"We went to a convenience store for something to drink, then we had the driver take us outside the city. I remember camping out there with Grandpa back when I was young."

"Right. And we built a little campfire and told embarrassing stories to each other." Rhonda continued.

Arnold grinned. "You told me about the time you fell down the stairs in your locker room and ended up flashing all the girls."

"And I sat in your lap so my dress wouldn't get dirty."

"I know. You coiled around me like a cat."

"Meow." Rhonda ran her index finger over Arnold's nose. "You taught me how to skip rocks into the lake."

"And when the sun came up, we had the chauffeur take us out for breakfast."

"I remember. We made out the whole ride back into the city."

"I thought my memory of that return drive was a little hazy." Arnold nodded.

"Everyone was at the café, getting in a little breakfast before going home to bed."

"Not everyone. Helga wasn't there. She wasn't at the prom either. I didn't notice it then. But now that I remember everything. She wasn't there. Maybe she was right. She really is all alone."

"You tried to change that." Rhonda passed a hand through his blonde hair, trying to make him realize that it hadn't been his fault.

"I thought I had gotten through to her. I thought I could finally give her what she needed to be complete. I thought I could take away her pain. But I was a fool. I couldn't do any of those things. I'm not a god. I'm not a superman. I'm just. . .me."

"Don't try to be a great man, Arnold. Those are the ones that are doomed to failure. Just try to be a man. And when you're needed, you will be great."

"How can that ever be enough?" Arnold pleaded.

"It is if you let it. Do you want to go out?" Rhonda changed the subject, fearing that he would begin to give into his pain.

"Go out where?"

"To get something to eat. I'm starved. And suddenly, I'm nostalgic for the café too. Besides, if we stay here, we're just going to end up drunk. Come on."

"I haven't been out in days. I don't know if I'm up to it, Rhonda."

"My treat."

Arnold sighed. "Okay, let me change clothes first."

"Good idea. Let me help you pick out an outfit. And while you're changing, do you think you could finish up with your little kidnapping story?"

"Oh, you mean, what I did next?"

"That would be nice." Rhonda giggled.

"Okay, well, there I was, trapped like a rat with Helga, when suddenly, I got an idea. . ."

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Author's Notes

Okay, plain and simple, I am just dog tired. Every day gets longer when it comes to work. I just don't know how many days I can go back there. I hate that place. With an unending passion. If the company were a real person, I would grab him by the genitals and shake him, until all the hours of my life that he's wasted came falling out like quarters from a Vegas slot machine. Yeah. That pretty much explains where I'm at. I am involved in a job search, but I'm having a very hard time finding something else. So, in general, I'm just not happy. But I'm still writing anyway. Better this than wallowing in self-pity.

Big shakeup with Arnold and Helga here. I just. . .needed to do something different with them this week. I didn't have any other scene in me for them. I just wasn't feeling it. But it worked out, IMO, because I think this came out as a pretty good scene. Sometimes I just want to show Helga in a different light so people don't think I've forsaken here. This is a story that is long in the telling, so it can happen. The Ginger column gave me no trouble at all. Her works seldom do, I find her easier to work for, and I can embellish a lot in the format of her segments. And of course, Arnold and Rhonda are no trouble at all. I love working with them.

And to be honest, that's all I have to say. I'm sure I'll think of a lot more after this is posted, but I'm so tired right now I can't really think straight, so this will have to do. I apologize for the brevity, I'm usually not as pithy as this. But you know the drill. Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

08/08/05

4:39AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	10. Interlude: The Way We Were

Interlude: The Way We Were

"You look beautiful, Baby Sister." Olga Pataki explained as she stood next to Helga, looking into a full-length mirror.

"Well, that makes one of us." Helga spoke sarcastically, sticking her tongue out at her reflection. "I hate this dress."

"Whatever for? It accentuates all your best features, Helga! Oh, I just hope it won't distract too much from my outfit."

"Olga, the chances of that are so infinitesimal, I could spend the entire afternoon calculating them." Helga replied. "Which would be a whole lot more fun." She mumbled the addendum as Olga proceeded to strike several poses in the looking glass.

"I can't believe I'm getting married, Helga. I feel like I've just barely graduated high school!"

"That was years ago, Olga. I'm a junior myself now. And you're. . ."

"Old." Olga finished the sentence.

"Okay, I was going to say mature, but if you insist."

"I'm getting old, Baby Sister."

"Oh come on Olga, you're only a little over thirty. You carry on like you're dying or something."

"That's just it. We don't live all that long. Over a third of my life is gone already. And it's taken me this long just to find the person I want to spend it with."

"Olga, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. . ." Helga hesitated, not knowing why she always seemed to feel attached to her older sister whenever a major change was about to happen. It didn't make sense. Normally she had to struggle to keep her contact with Olga down to a bare minimum for fear of her own sanity.

"What's that?" Olga questioned, somewhat surprised. She tried her best, But Helga always seemed to keep her at a distance.

"Do you. . .feel that you're rushing into marriage?"

"With Geoffrey?" Olga blinked.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm not trying to say he's a bad guy or anything, but it's like we just met this guy, and now you're about to get hitched, and. . .it's just, I remember what happened last time, and I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

"You know what, Baby Sister? I thought a lot about that myself. This time, I've taken precautions. Doug was wonderful, but it was selfish of me to try and take him a way from the world. He's needed by more than just me." With an extraordinary amount of effort, Helga managed to keep herself from rolling her eyes. She knew what a creep Doug had been. Olga didn't need to know that. Least of all on her wedding day. "With Geoffrey and I, it's different. We have similar goals. We want to help people, but we're not so wrapped up that we don't have time for each other. We're going to have such a wonderful honeymoon! There's a church in Geoffrey's hometown that is sponsoring a missionary trip to Antigua. We're going away to a beautiful island, and we'll have the chance to help people by building houses for families. Isn't it exciting?"

"Gee Olga, that sounds. . .uh, really romantic I guess."

"Oh, it will be! I just know it! Geoffrey is just so considerate, we met while volunteering in a homeless shelter, you know."

"Yes Olga, I know. You've told that story already." More times than Helga had ever wanted to hear it. In fact, Helga was at the point where she wished she could unhear it.

"I'm sorry. It's just. . .Oh Helga, you just couldn't understand how wondrous it is to be in love! To know you've found the only person you could ever be with, someone who will always love you in spite of your faults!"

Helga gnashed her teeth, and resisted the urge to go for Olga's throat. It wouldn't do much good anyway. They were in the room alone together, she wouldn't have an alibi, not to mention the lack of opportunities to hide the body. Catching another glimpse of herself in the mirror, she cringed, whishing she had one of those cyanide pills in her teeth in case Arnold did manage to see her in this ridiculous getup. She looked like a blooming flower. In the literal sense rather than the metaphorical. And her shoulders were so enlarged by pink billowing ruffles that she wondered if she'd be able to keep her arms down during the ceremony. And now she had to deal with Olga's declaration that she knew love better than Helga. In a pig's eye! Olga would never know true love. Not the way Helga did. _How could she?_ Helga wondered. _She'll never know what it's like to love from afar. She'll never know the thrill of coming so close to the love of your life, and then yelling at him for being in the way when he turns around and notices you're there. She'll never have to go through this kind of heartache. Men kill each other just to get a hello from her! She could choose from scores if them if she wanted! And me? I am made to suffer in her shadow. Offering prayers to a God I sometimes doubt in the vain hope that he'll grant my only wish! _Helga wanted to convey all these thoughts to her sister, but what would be the point? There was no getting through to Olga over these kinds of matters. And the less her sister knew about her personal life, or worse, her personal feelings, the better.

"Yeah, that must be incredible." Helga responded with as much false enthusiasm as possible.

"It is, Helga! Oh, it's just so magical! I can't wait for you to have the same experience some day so we can talk about it as sisters!"

"Oh yeah." Helga had to roll her eyes at this one, and she made sure to stay out of the mirror's range as Olga made minor adjustments to her bridal gown. "We'll have to do that." There was no mistaking the sarcasm in her voice, but either Olga chose not to make anything of it, or she was too distracted to notice. Helga presumed the former.

Helga burned with envy when she had first seen the church Bob had acquired for his firstborn to say her "I dos" in. It topped by five times anything Helga had fantasized for herself if she ever got married, a concept that surely seemed more and more unlikely with every year that passed. What did it say about her that she had spent thirteen years of her existence on being in love with the same person? A person who had in all probability been taken from her forever by Princess Rhonda Lloyd. Just the thought of the little tramp's name made Helga scowl. The bitch already had him all sewed up for the junior prom. And he had probably forgotten that she ever existed. She liked to think that she was unforgettable. That somehow, he would miss the ugly little girl who used to pelt him with spitballs when they were kids, the girl who used to hassle him for no other reason than that he was there. And not for the first time, Helga wished she had found a way to make him understand. She was so tired of being alone. She was tired of everything. Why did she have to watch her sister get married? As much as she couldn't stand Olga, she didn't want her annoying older sibling taken away from her like this either. Intrusive as she could be, at least Olga actually seemed to care about her. At least she made an effort to be like a family.

And yet, Helga had finally reasoned out in her teenage years that this was the way of the Pataki clan. To stand alone and not let others inside. To suffocate those around you. Miriam had been totally defeated by her own husband. And what angered Helga so much was that Bob didn't even realize it. He remained blissfully unaware of how stifled his own wife was. And she didn't know if he would even take notice until he finally retired in twenty years or so. If her mother would even still be alive by that point. And how he would miss her then! Miriam wasn't much of a mother, but Bob would cry bloody murder when she wasn't around to wait on him hand and foot anymore.

Annoyed, Helga shook her head to clear the cobwebs and derail the train of thought. She had more important things to worry about.

"You look so beautiful!" Olga lavished upon her again as she finished making adjustments to her own dress

Helga groaned again when she saw her reflection. Her long, blonde hair had been let completely down and fell to the center of her back. It had been much longer, but she had been forced to cut it, against her will, for the wedding. She wondered how long it would take to grow long enough to wear in a braid again. Maybe she could resurrect her old pigtail look if she got desperate. She hated having her hair down, it was constantly getting in her way. She wasn't used to it at all. But she couldn't tell Olga. Not on her wedding day. She could pretend to be a normal girl for one day. It wasn't even a full twenty-four hours.

"Alright, sis. Let's get you hitched." Helga covered her disgust of the pink monstrosity she had been stuffed into with a kind of emotional lapse towards her sibling. She saw Olga tear up and instantly regretted it.

"Oh Helga!" Olga wrapped her arms around her and began weeping. "We're going to do this for you next, baby sister, I promise!"

"Oh, criminey." Helga moaned. _That's just what I need_. Reluctantly, Olga let go and smoothed the front of her gown. One of her maids opened the door out into the hallway. They were still hidden for view, but they could hear the music playing. Helga was prompted to take her place next to the best man, as it was nearly time for them to walk. Helga unsuccessfully hid a scowl as she walked over to him. His name was Bernard, and he embodied just about everything she couldn't stand in a guy. At least the last time she had walked down the aisle, it had been next to Arnold. That had been a dream come true. This was. . .not quite a nightmare, but definitely an unpleasant dream. Bernard was a pretty boy with a pretentious name. He was always combing his jet black hair and making adjustments to his tuxedo, as though people would even notice he was there once Olga came down the aisle with Bob. Rhonda would've been much more suitable to him. Which would work wonderfully, because then Arnold would be free. The mere thought of having to dance with the creep made her want to wretch, and she did her best to push the thought out of her mind. She'd never hear the end of it, ever, if she managed to throw up during her sister's wedding ceremony.

She walked forward and stood at the very back of the church, looking out at the sea of people as she made her way forward, step by step. _Someday, this will happen for me. Someday my dance will begin. I'm tired of being a bridesmaid. Next time, I will be the bride. I don't know how, Arnold, but I'll make it happen. I won't let this world rob either of us of what we deserve. Some day, some way, I'll make you mine. _

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

"Arnold!" Nadine called after her boyfriend while standing in the lunch line. He was a good twenty kids ahead of her, and Nadine had to bless the shape of his head for being so easy to spot in a crowd.

"Hey Nadine!" Arnold looked back to see his girlfriend waving her arms.

"Get me a chocolate milk, will you? They're always out by the time I get up there."

Arnold smiled at her, tapping the boy standing behind him. Brainy wheezed in response. "Brainy, do you mind if I let Nadine cut in front of me?"

"Uh. . .no." Brainy said in between labored breathing. Arnold thanked him and motioned for Nadine to come join him.

Nadine ran up and stepped in front of Brainy, giving Arnold a peck on the cheek. "Hey cute stuff, sorry I'm late."

Arnold chuckled. "You're always late to lunch."

"I know. It's because I have advanced bio right before. I guess it's a good thing it's not my last class of the day, or I'd never get home."

"It's all right. Since we mostly just have time to eat anyway, it means we always have a lot to talk about at night when we study."

"Is your grandmother cooking tonight?" Nadine asked expectantly.

"Yeah, but don't ask me what. It's a mystery every night, now. At least she's finally moved out of her watermelon story. I was going broke, having to eat out every night _after _eating at home."

"Aw, you're grandma's not so bad. She's just eccentric."

"Yeah, I know. Don't get me wrong, I love Grandma. Anyway, just to be safe, I think I'll eat a decent-sized meal now." Arnold picked up a tray as they finally made it into the kitchen where food was served. He helped himself to a small Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. Nadine took a slice of pizza. "How are your parents holding up?"

"Mom's getting out of the hospital in a week, and it'll definitely be nice to have her home again."

"Do you want any help when she gets home? You know I love your parents."

"Well, she won't be able to do much, I'm afraid." Nadine pouted. "The surgeon said she'll have to stay in bed for at least two weeks while she heels. She can't walk up any stairs. They're going to give her a hospital bed so she can stay comfortable in the living room."

"Is she going to be able to walk again?" Arnold asked with concern.

"Yes, it's just she has to be careful. They pulled two discs out of her spine and replaced them with titanium, so she can't bend over much. But in time, she'll be okay."

"I'm just sorry she has to go through this." Arnold sighed.

"None of us like it, but once she heals up, at least she won't be in so much pain anymore. I don't know, Arnold. Sometimes I think I should study to be a doctor. I'm really good at biology! I'm sure I could specialize in human bio."

"You could." Arnold nodded. "But we both know that isn't what you really like. Ever since we were kids, you've said you want to be an entomologist.

"I know, I know. And I do. It's just, hard when you see your own mother suffering." Nadine sniffed.

Arnold got them each a chocolate milk and paid the cashier for their food. Nadine followed right behind him, and they sat at their customary table. After putting their trays down, Arnold wrapped his girlfriend in a tight hug. "It's not your fault, Nadine. These things just happen. Look, I don't like to talk about this, but. . .my own parents are gone, right? It isn't anyone's fault. No one made them go. They didn't leave me on purpose. But they disappeared. And the odds are pretty unlikely that they're ever coming back. I wish they were. There are nights when I miss them so much. People I hardly even knew. They're gone, and I can't bring them back. As much as I want to. My point is, you can't blame yourself for what your mother is going through. It's no one's fault. And maybe in a way, she's blessed. If there's one thing I've learned about life, it's that sometimes you have to be less angry about the things that happen to you, and more grateful that they aren't as bad as they could be. And sometimes, they're even great!"

"Wow!" Was all Nadine could say as she kept her left arm hooked with Arnold's right and used her free limb to hold her pizza. "Phoebe was right."

"About what?"

"You really are a great guy!"

Arnold only smiled. "I do my best. Speaking of which, I think I know just the thing to cheer you up a bit."

"What's that?"

"I thought maybe this weekend we could go to the Museum of Natural History. I'll ask Grandpa if I can borrow the Packard."

"You mean it!" Nadine squealed.

"Absolutely!"

Nadine dropped her pizza and squeezed her boyfriend tightly. "Oh, Arnold, this will be perfect! I haven't been there in months! I heard they got two new exhibits! I've been dying to go, but then this thing with Mom, and I really didn't think you would want to go, and Rhonda can't stand that sort of thing, so-"

Arnold silenced her with a finger on her lips. "You're welcome Nadine." He chuckled. "Just promise not to exasperate the curator!"

Nadine made no promises. And she couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

Rhonda awoke to a most favorable feeling of arms holding her securely at the waist. She opened her eyes to see her boyfriend of fourteen months sleeping soundly, holding her tightly to him. Part of her was a little disappointed that he had been able to sleep so well while lying next to her. She had assumed that her lithe feminine form would keep him rather preoccupied, a hormonal explosion that would prevent the idea of slumber from even entering his mind. On the other hand, it showed how comfortable he was around her, that he was able to sleep so peacefully and thoroughly while lying with her. Perhaps theirs was a true love after all.

Rhonda pursed her lips, considering whether or not to wake him or not. She glanced over at the clock. It was nearly 8:30. They would have to get going soon if they wanted to have any fun today. Grinning wildly, Rhonda proceeded to gently nudge Arnold, who roused with a little bit of difficulty.

"Good morning, sleepy head." She fashioned a lop-sided grin on him."

"Mmm. Morning Rhonda." Arnold yawned.

"I see that you slept well, hmm?"

"No complaints." He smirked, holding her a little tighter.

"Want to fool around?"

"We've got morning breath!" Arnold protested.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I suppose I have to reveal that I'm not perfect sooner or later." Rhonda grinned, advancing on him. She planted a relatively non-invasive kiss against him, before realizing he was right. "Okay, okay, maybe we should get cleaned up first." That sent a wicked look across her face. "Oh Arnold?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you join me in the shower?"

That suggestion sent the boy into a coughing fit. "Are you crazy?"

"This morning? Actually, I do feel rather. . .uninhibited. I think it did me some good to get out of Hillwood. I haven't really gotten out of town in almost a year. Not like this, anyway."

"I thought that last night, we talked and decided we weren't ready to, you know. . ."

"I didn't say we have to do _that_." Rhonda smirked. "But it's such a big tub, I wouldn't want to get lonely." She pouted

Arnold wasn't certain how long he could resist her. There was something mystical about Rhonda. She certainly wasn't the most endowed girl in the school, and it was damn near impossible to get a date with her. But she was absolutely beautiful. Her face was one of the most captivating Arnold knew, and of course, she had a pair of endless legs that she knew how to use. She swayed her hips like a movie star when she walked, and Arnold knew it compensated for her less obvious features and then some. She knew how to carry herself, the right looks to flash, what to say, and how to say it. She oozed sex like no one he had ever known, probably would ever know. And yet, for all that, she was still the Rhonda he knew when he was younger. This whole weekend had been centered around a fashion show, one that she had been very enthusiastic about. Arnold still didn't really understand what the big deal about fashion was. But over the last year, Rhonda had bought many an outfit for him, and despite some hesitation, he had to admit that she always made him look great. Perhaps some people were just born with a strong fashion sense.

"I don't know, Rhonda. It's not that I don't want to, it's just-"

"I tell you what, Arnold. I'm going to go and brush my teeth, and then I'm going to take a shower. I'll leave the bathroom door unlocked. So if the thought of me naked and covered in soap bubbles gets to you. . ." She trailed her index finger under his chin, tracing a random pattern and watching his eyes close involuntarily. ". . .well then, you'll know where to find me, hmm?" She gave him a peck on the lips and flipped her hair as she crawled out of bed. Arnold almost followed her face first as her tipped over onto his belly, his eyes glued to her rear end, which swayed back and forth invitingly as she walked to the bathroom. She flashed him a come hither look before shutting the door behind her. Arnold wasn't a smoker, but he knew that if he had been, he would've been reaching for a cigarette that instant.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

Well, here it is everyone. Something completely different and new! I'll bet you never expected an installment like this. I know I'm deviating a bit lately, I just felt that I needed to bring the world these characters are living in into clearer focus. Up until now, you all knew about Arnold and Nadine being a couple. You knew that Arnold and Rhonda spent a weekend together. But it's always better to show than to tell, and I felt that this would paint a much better picture of what life was like for the stars of this story.

I'm really pleased with how this turned out. For the first time in awhile, I felt confidence with writing the Helga section of the chapter. I don't know why we haven't been working together as well as we used to. Perhaps she's feeling slighted because she isn't the only star in this tale. So far, this story is differing from _The Sweet Hereafter_ more than I possibly could have imagined. I don't consider that a bad thing. I think that the challenge of writing this every week is good for me. It means I have to work at it, I have to grow as an author in order to bring this story to you properly. I don't want to turn out low quality work. I'm something of a perfectionist. I don't expect this story to be perfect, but it sure would be nice. So far, I'm just thrilled that week in and week out, people keep coming back to this story. Moreover, that people comment on how original a work it is. This was my goal from the outset. I wanted to do a story that hasn't really been told before. Obviously, stories about Arnold and Helga are a dime are dozen, and I don't consider that to be bad, either. It was, after all, a very big part of the series. But the fandom has been around for so long now that nearly everything has been done. Some of it well, some of it not. And I speak as someone who has precious little time to read the other fanfictions out there. I wish that were not the case, but it's true. I try to keep an eye out on the stories that I feel are the best, but finding the time to actually read one seems almost impossible. As I've no doubt said before, it's something of a minor miracle that I'm able to get a new chapter of this thing out every week.

Which brings me to another point. Next weekend, as some of you may know, is Otakon, and I, of course, will be going. This means that there may or may not be a new chapter of _Instant Gratification_ next week. I do have one extra day I took off from work this week. And I am going to make an effort to do some writing before I go down. Fortunately, I'll be returning late Sunday night, so if I do write anything, I'll be able to post it for you on schedule. However, even if I do write, I expect it won't be as much as you're accustomed to. Rest assured that chapter or no, this story will resume its normal release schedule come August 29. I'm already coming up with some ideas for the next few chapters, I just need to be able to get them down on paper in a format that you'd actually want to read. I shall do my best, as always. If anyone out there is planning to go to Otakon, I'll be attending the Metal Gear panel and the Evangelion panel, not to mention the Friday and Saturday night fan parodies. Perhaps I'll see you there.

Okay, I think that covers all of the bases on that. I guess I'll peruse the last few rounds of reviews for any questions I can provide the answers to. . .

Oh, right. First of all, thanks everyone for helping me with my stress level. I still hate my job, I'm just able to hide it much better this week. Here's hoping I'll find something new soon. I have this habit of finding prospects, but they never go anywhere.

The scene with Arnold and Helga last week was designed to put things back on base, as Roxynomekop pointed out. I wanted to show that I hadn't forgotten that somewhere in there, they do love each other. It's just that to tell this story properly, it's going to take me awhile to get to that, and I wanted to issue something of a reminder that I haven't forgotten. Rhonda is far from the only woman on Arnold's mind, even though it probably doesn't seem that way very often at the moment. Don't think I would ever forget about Helga. I do have something of a love affair with her character in the sense that she's so much fun to write for. It isn't always easy to work with her, as I've expressed, but I always thoroughly enjoy it whenever I do.

Nevertheless, I cannot say who Arnold's true love is in this tale. It could be Helga or Rhonda. I feel that all of that will depend upon him, and what he really wants in a woman. Besides, I want to make sure everyone is desperate to know "the decision" when we finally get there.

Number 6, we're probably going to fight over Helga all throughout this story, probably because I think we just see her in different ways. But I think the important thing to remember is that neither of us can truly be right. She was designed from the ground up by Craig Bartlett, and only he can say for certain what she would and wouldn't do. I'm just presenting what I feel to be one of many possibilities.

Rachel West, glad to have you on board. I hope you'll stick around for the rest of the story. In case you didn't know, it updates every Monday (except for those occasions when FFN is down, of course).

Laurel, there are huge reasons why Arnold and Nadine broke up, and I'll be pretty shocked if anyone sees it coming. All I can tell you is that it wasn't a fight or anything that happened between them. And I'm glad you enjoy the stuff I do with Ginger. I don't cart her out every chapter, but I really just like writing stuff from an outside perspective, sometimes. By bringing her in, I get a chance to do things differently, and since it's through a column, I have the freedom to write whatever I want with her. She is not really tied down by the plot of the story. She does, however, factor in to the story as a whole, and I feel that will become more apparent as time goes on.

And so, that about covers things for now. As I said, I will make every attempt to have something presentable for next week, but don't panic if I miss the next chapter, things will return to normal by then. It's also the week I intend to return to the "normal" progression of the story, for those waiting to see what will happen next. In the meantime, leave a review, and send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

08/15/05

6:48AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	11. Truth In Your Words

Truth In Your Words

_"My friends keep telling me_

_That she's no good_

_She isn't treating you_

_The way she should_

_I feel so badly_

_That's all I can say_

_Before my tears fall  
I just walk away"_

--They Might Be Giants

"Maybe I Know"

Arnold was feeling pleased with himself as the taxi cab pulled down the street that led to the Sunset Arms boarding house. At last, he could finally find a reprieve from this nightmare. Helga had allowed him to leave the motel without much of a fight, perhaps she felt complacent in the situation. Then again, the damage had already been done. She was his wife. He couldn't escape her for too long. But he didn't need much. Just a break from the madness. Just a chance to explain the situation, to come up with a plan to fix things. There had to be a reasonable way out of this. And getting away from the situation seemed to help. Fortunately, Gerald had been able to wire enough money for Arnold to take a bus back home. Perhaps taking a cab from the bus station had been a tad extravagant, but Arnold was in a hurry to see his extended family again. He needed some serious advice about how to sort everything out.

As the cab pulled over to the curb, Arnold gave the driver a generous tip and stepped out of the car, standing in front of a place that had been his home for all his life. A run-down building full of crazies and eccentrics that he knew he would miss to no end when he moved out at the end of the summer. _Well, maybe not Oskar and Suzie's fights _Arnold thought as he walked up the steps to the front door and let himself in. Be it ever so humble, there was no place like home.

"Hello?" Arnold called out as he stepped into the foyer

"In here, Short Man." A familiar voice echoed from the kitchen. A smile crept across Arnold's face as he heard his grandfather call out to him.

"Hi Grandpa." Arnold spoke as he walked into the kitchen, feeling desperately hungry for something to eat. The trip home had taken several hours, it was already past 8PM, well after the dinner hour, and his stomach had been protesting the lack of fuel ever since he had pulled into the bus station and flagged down a cab. "I know this is probably a dumb question, but by any chance, are there any leftovers from-"

All thought of food immediately evaporated from Arnold's thoughts when he surveyed the scene at the kitchen table. His grandfather sat nursing a cup of joe, and across from him sat Suzy, cradling the head of whom Arnold knew beyond the shadow of a doubt to be one Helga G. Pataki. "Uh, what's going on here?" Arnold asked, feeling very confused.

"Isn't that what you should be explaining?" Suzy said disdainfully, stroking Helga's hair as the girl shuddered and pressed herself into Suzy's lap.

"Well, I have been gone all night long. I guess you could say I had something of an unexpected detour. Anyway, I need your help." Arnold gulped. "It's. . .about Helga. Grandpa, she-"

"I thought I raised you better than this, Arnold. I guess I was wrong." Phil sighed, taking a swig of his coffee.

"About what?" Arnold protested. Can someone please tell me what's going on?"

"As if you didn't know." Suzy scolded. "How could you! Telling this poor young girl how you love her and want to marry her, dragging her out across the desert in the middle of the night, and then telling her it was all a mistake this morning. And to think, you try to counsel Oskar and I on occasion. Compared to you, Oskar is a saint!"

"Now wait just a minute here! That's not what happened at all! She-"

Helga clutched the end of the tablecloth and turned to face him, her face streaming with tears and causing the mascara around her eyes to run. _Wait a minute._ Arnold thought. _Mascara?__ Helga doesn't wear any makeup, she always. . .oh, she's good. I was a fool to ever think that I could keep up with her. _Arnold found his left fist was flexing at his side, and he had to make a conscious effort to keep it still.

"Helga. . ." He pleaded with her, giving her a look that begged for release.

"Arnold. . .don't you love me?" Helga spoke between sobs, Suzy comforting her constantly. Arnold knew in that moment it was over. Helga was better than good, she was absolutely brilliant. She must have flown back to get there ahead of him. She had completely outfoxed him. If he denied her now, in front of his extended family, they would never look at him the same way again. She had probably had hours to build out her sob story to them, and he had walked into her trap like a fox in the woods. His only options were to either succumb to the inevitable, or gnaw of his own leg and escape into the wilds. There was no choice at all.

"Of course I do. . .honey." Arnold had to force the term of endearment out of himself. If Helga was going to be a master thespian, then he had to play his part in this affair just as well. At least until they were alone.

"W-why did you leave me?" Helga asked in her most pitiful voice. "Was it because of last night? I'm sorry, it's just, I've never done that sort of thing before. I don't really know what to do. I'll try harder, Arnold, please believe me!"

"No! That's not it, Helga. I was just. . .I felt so overwhelmed, like I was trapped. I just. . .I didn't know what to do this morning. I didn't know how to react or. . .look, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to put you through that. And from now on, I promise to take your feelings into consideration before I do something."

"Oh Arnold!" Helga ran to him, her arms wide open. Arnold looked and felt like a deer in the headlights as Helga embraced him tightly, a sensation that felt altogether new to him. He wasn't sure how to react, so he simply held her awkwardly, trying to give the look of an unfettered romance he had never even felt.

"This isn't over." Arnold whispered into her ear as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"You're quite right. We've only just begun." She smiled radiantly, mischievously, a look that promised many exchanges to come, and one that simultaneously frightened and fascinated him.

"There now, you see?" Grandpa Phil smiled. "You put two young lovebirds together and they always overcome their differences. Why I remember the time that me and Pookie-" Suzy gave him a look, and he relented. "Ah, we lived happily ever after. Sort of. That's the point. Now, why don't you kids go on upstairs and make yourselves at home. You can stay here tonight."

"But, Grandpa, aren't all the rooms full?" Arnold asked.

"Well, last I checked, no one was actually staying in number sixteen."

"But that's Mr. Smith's old room. Is he still paying?"

"Every year in April, I get another check with the rent for one year, requesting I keep the space open. And I always have. Heck, if some guy wants to rent a room and never spends any time in it, that's just dandy with me. This old house is a pain to upkeep as it is. Just means one less person in line to use the bathroom this way, I always say. Besides, it's a lot of money, Arnold. Anyway, I don't see what the harm would be if you make use of the room for one night. Just be careful not to disturb any of that equipment he has."

"We could use my room, Grandpa."

"Well, you could. I just figured that your little lady would like something a bit more adventurous." Phil winked at them.

"I don't mind sleeping in Arnold's room." Helga chimed in. "I just want to be close to him."

"Well why didn't you say so!" Phil laughed. "You two kids go on and have fun, I'll make some pancakes so you two can eat something."

"Thanks Grandpa." Arnold motioned to Helga "Um, my room is upstairs, dear."

Helga followed him dutifully, a swooning look on her face at the thought of sleeping in Arnold's bedroom. In sooth, she had spent two nights there when she was much younger, but thankfully, Arnold hadn't known about the situation at the time. Now, however, things were entirely different.

Arnold didn't say anything as they walked up the staircase to the second floor, then to the other end of the hallway. He wordlessly pulled the staircase to his room down and allowed Helga to go first. She gulped once, then slowly walked upwards, one step, two steps, three steps, until finally, she stood before the door of her beloved. Afraid that she would start trembling, Helga reached out and opened the door in one fluid motion, stepping inside the private chambers of the only man she would ever love. The emotion and wonder she felt as she looked around her was cut short, however, as Arnold stepped in behind her and closed the door. Of course. Now that they were done making nice, the hostilities could resume in their normal fashion.

"What the hell was that all about?" Arnold questioned her, then changed his mind. "No, wait, forget it. I don't even care anymore. I'm hungry, I just want something to eat."

"Wait up, bucko." Helga stopped him with a stare. "I want to make sure we have something perfectly clear."

"And what's that?" Arnold asked, throwing off his overshirt. He longed to change into his pajamas, but marriage or no, he wasn't about to undress in front of Helga. He settled for the moderate relief that his plain undershirt left, he found himself feeling cooler, and subsequently, less angry.

Helga snatched a box of tissues sitting on a shelf next to Arnold's bed and stared into the mirror, trying to wipe away the makeup she had applied. "I sincerely hope that my little demonstration has shown you just how seriously I take this matter. You are mine, Arnold. And you're not going anywhere. I am in control, not you. And if you do ever intend to return to you're regularly scheduled life, you'll have to behave."

"Oh so? Well maybe it slipped your mind, Helga, but I'm going away to college in August. And you can't stop me."

"You can try, but you won't escape my revenge so easily, Football Head."

"Alright, that's it. I want some answers, Helga!"

"You want answers." Helga scoffed.

"You're darn right I do! Why are you doing this?"

Helga took a deep breath, as much a stall tactic as it was an attempt to keep her fevered brain from going into overdrive. "Because you forgot about me, Arnold."

"I forgot about you? Arnold now seemed completely baffled. "Hardly, Helga. Look, maybe you haven't exactly played a major role in my life for the past six or seven years, but I've hardly forgotten you. You're kind of, well, unforgettable."

"Well you sure have a funny way of showing it!" Helga responded, but internally, she was singing. The mere thought that Arnold could find her unforgettable, a person he would always remember, that was more than she had ever hoped for.

"It's kind of hard to forget someone who seemed so bent on always making your childhood miserable." Arnold frowned. He noticed the corners of Helga's mouth turned downward as well. Good. Perhaps he was giving her something to think about. "But what I remember the most about you is those rare moments when you would show the world that somewhere, deep down, you're really nice."

"Nice?" Helga blinked, surprised that Arnold would have anything good to say about her by this point.

"Yes. Nice. So maybe you can understand why I can't figure you out. Why did you do this to me?"

"Because I haven't done anything to you in years!" Helga blurted out. "I owe you big time, and I have to make sure I get payment in on time. You should feel privileged, Arnoldo. I set this entire practical joke up just for you!"

"You getting us married in Las Vegas! This is your idea of a practical joke!" Arnold shouted. "You're unbelievable!"

"Oh calm down, will you? It's nothing permanent, Arnoldo. Ninety days. The whole thing dissolves after that. Unless, of course, you'd like to make a little trip to town hall with me and get us a marriage license."

"Never in a million years!" Arnold proclaimed.

"I thought not. Anyway, that's all there is to it. Disappointed?" Helga grinned wickedly at him. Arnold decided in that moment to sleep with one eye open, lest Helga prey upon him while he slept.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_Sometimes you just have one of those days, and God only knows what's going on with us. I woke up on a Thursday about three weeks ago. Something had hit me overnight. My entire world lurched the moment I opened my eyes. It was like the worst hangover of my life, except I hadn't had anything to drink the night before. I don't consider myself to be much of a party girl in that sense. If I'm drinking, rest assured that I'm drinking heavily and it's for a darn good reason. Usually, something bad is going on in my life. Something big. But things were looking up for me. I wouldn't say my life was a paradise or anything, but there was nothing going on that would've sent me on a drinking binge. See, I believe in drinking for the right reasons. Unlike a lot of people, I only drink socially when I really have to, like a business lunch or dinner, or a party where I have to make the right impression. But that's all rather unnecessary. I think a lot of people drink just because it makes them feel good. I'm not much for that. I only drink when my life is at a point where I can't stand to be in a clear state of mind for more than ninety minutes at a time. I'm fortunate enough to have only been in that kind of state twice in the last five years, and fortunately, both were short-lived. But I digress._

_Needless to say, I crawled out of bed, feeling like I was dying. The tedious journey to the bathroom felt like it was taking an eternity. Someone was hitting my temples with a sledgehammer every three seconds. My stomach felt like it had gone on an E-ticket ride without the rest of me. My legs wobbled uselessly. Somehow, probably through divine intervention, I managed to pick my way into the bathroom. I bowed before an altar of porcelain and emptied my stomach and what felt like my liver and half my intestines into its welcoming maw. I shut the lid and pressed the lever that would send the whole mess out of my sight, and took a tentative breath. My throat burned from all the acid I'd coughed up, but at least my stomach seemed to feel a great dose of relief at having exorcised whatever demon had gotten inside of me. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. They had me. I was the perfect picture of a woman who was beaten. Remains of what I had just ejected clung to my cheek, and my hair was matted with sweat. My skin was pale and sickly. In short, I looked like hell._

_Not knowing what else to do, I ran some water and washed my face. I gargled with mouthwash to get the horrid, acetic taste out of my mouth, then I staggered back to my bedroom. My alarm was going off, I silenced it with the flick of a switch. I groaned when I saw the calendar. The 18th. I had a huge appointment that morning at Gripling Publishing. I was supposed to meet with Courtney and my agent so we could discuss the terms of renewing my contract. Between you and me, I had already decided to sign another five year deal with Courtney. I had several better offers from competing publishers, sure. But Courtney is my friend. She could survive just fine if I left, but I really can't think of a way I could hurt her more than to leave. No, Robert and I were just going to make her sweat a bit. But it was a meeting that I just couldn't miss. And the idea of doing anything but going back to bed and praying for deliverance from whatever unholy disease was assailing me was unbearable. My choice was simple. I had no choice. I stripped out of everything I was wearing. No time to take a shower. At the pace my unwilling body was moving at, I would be lucky if I arrived at the meeting only forty-five minutes late. I stumbled around my room, wondering who had rearranged it on me overnight. It's always fun, knowing what the human mind will do when you're not looking. I pulled on m underwear and bra, picked the first dress out of my closet that my hand touched, and stood in front of the mirror, and felt proud of myself for managing to look halfway presentable in my current situation. Then I got a better look, and realized that in my haste, I had somehow forgotten about pantyhose. This left me with the choice of either hauling myself back to the bathroom and shaving my legs, or taking everything off and starting all over. Given my lack of anything resembling hand-eye coordination at the time, I decided that taking a razor blade to any part of my body probably wouldn't be the smartest idea in the world. _

_Thirty minutes later, I had phoned Robert and told him he would have to pick me up. I wasn't about to drive in my condition. I don't really recall much until he picked me up. I think I passed out on the couch. I wasn't even embarassed. It wouldn't be the first time a guy had come to my rescue. After rousing me from my nap, he helped me into his car. This was probably mistake #1 as far as my health is concerned. Unless, of course, you consider my getting out of bed in the first place to have been mistake #1. In that case, I've lost track. _

_Robert phoned Courtney and explained that we were hopelessly behind schedule but we were still coming. He said that she took the news rather gracefully, which I find hard to believe, considering I had probably ruined her entire morning. But I guess that's beside the point. I asked him to call my doctor when he got off with Courtney. There I was, strung out in the passenger seat, feeling like I would pass out or vomit at any moment. From somewhere in the dark recesses of my fevered brain, I conjured up my doctor's number. Like a gentleman, Robert called, despite the fact he was trying to concentrate on the rush hour traffic. The pounding sensation that had been assaulting my head earlier had turned into an outright throbbing. I fully expected my head to explode within five minutes, and I didn't particularly mind if it would mean an end to the pain. I relayed most of my symptoms to Robert. Unsurprisingly, Dr. Hartigan told me to get lots of rest and drink plenty of fluids. I wanted to yell at him that that was exactly what I was trying to do, but what would've been the point? By this time, I figured that if I was a good girl, if I turned around, went home, and did exactly what Hartigan told me to do, I would get very sick and die. I couldn't see much risk in disobeying his orders. So I told Robert to keep driving. But it was still easier than calling Dr. Dave. Especially if my mom found out. _

_The road lay ahead of us. I tried to keep my eyes shut most of the time. In the few flashes of sight I did grant myself, I remember seeing an endless wave of cars. Damn I-84 to hell. I felt like that highway had been trying to kill me my entire life, and now, at last, I was finally in for it. I had showed weakness, and now finally, this road would swallow me whole. I thought of all the hours of my life I'd wasted sitting in traffic on it, the endless construction, the accidents, the bottlenecks. It seemed only fitting that this would be where I'd cash in my chips. I wondered if they'd dig my grave on one of the meridians. I hoped it was one with a nice tree to give me some shade._

_I awoke to find myself in a conference room at Gripling Publishing. Someone had stretched me out across three chairs and propped my head up with a pillow. My face felt hot and stiff. Who could've shown me such kindness? I knew I hadn't walked myself in here. And Darren was still away in college. Even he, Superman that he is, couldn't have come to save me this quickly. I found out later that Robert and Courtney had carried me inside, together. Now Robert, I could see. He was king of the nice guys, second only to Darren. All he needed was a good woman to keep him going. I really should help him find one. And Courtney! She's probably my best friend, but it's hard to picture her doing something so physical for me. Darren says I'm a princess, but I know I can't be too light! It's good to know who your friends are. _

_I signed the deal. I didn't even know what it was. I still felt woozy, and I was afraid I might have to throw up again. I read through with Robert a few days later. It wasn't much. Two cents a word on every column for the next five years, and an agreement that I would publish three books under the Gripling banner—a collection of columns, a collection of poetry, and a short story collection. I guess I should stop making plans for that novel. I've always wanted to write a novel. But that takes a lot of time and work. Work I don't mind, but I don't have time to deal with everything I do right now. If I wrote a novel, I'd have to give up this column, and I'm just not willing to do that. It wasn't even a very good deal. I could've gotten at least five cents from other houses. But it wasn't about the money._

_Yes, that's right, I don't mind sharing what I make with the rest of you. I am not that proud. Besides, it's not about the money. It never was. If it was all for the money, I'd have left Gripling Publishing after a year. But if I have the chance to touch people's lives and help a friend out in the process? Well then, I'm just going to take it._

_Courtney is looking at a deal that would help increase my column's exposure. Nothing's firmed up yet, but I know I wouldn't mind reaching more people. But if that falls through, at least I know she's collecting my columns for distribution in bookstores. Who knows, maybe I'll even have the chance to do a few signings. I hope I'll see you there. Don't worry, you won't have any trouble finding me. I'll be the girl passed out on her desk with runs in her stockings. _

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Rhonda gave her order to the waitress along with Arnold's, asked for a bottle of spring water for the table, and turned to her friend and love. "You two certainly have a twisted relationship." Rhonda chuckled.

"Well, I think there's alwayss been a good mixture of love and hate between Helga and I." Arnold nodded. "It's just the way we talk to each other. How we deal with one another. At the time, I was actually impressed with her. Don't get me wrong, I was also mad as hell. But she had beaten me so throughly. It hadn't even been a challenge for her. It was like she knew exactly what I was doing. She didn't even try to stop me when I left the motel in Vegas. No wonder! She just found a way to beat me home. She boxed me in and made sure that I had to play her game. It's sick, but in a way, you have to admire the artistry of it. There aren't many people in the world who could pull off something so elaborate. But she is one of them, that's for sure."

"And you find that exciting?" Rhonda asked.

"Well, yeah. I mean, you can say what you will about Helga. Having been married to her for three months, I doubt you'll come up with anything I haven't. Sometimes I think she was designed to make my life as difficult is possible. And yet. . .now that I finally have an idea of who she really is. . .I don't want to give that up. I want her to come back. I need to know more about her. I need to finish whatever it is that hangs between us." Arnold chuckled to himself now. "Who am I kidding? Everything hangs between us."

"Samsara." Rhonda said flatly.

"Come again?"

"Samsara. A cycle of pain. It's what the Buddhists refer to as human suffering. They believe in reincarnation, that you will be endlessly reincarnated based upon how well you live your life. The better or worse you live, the better or worse your station in your next life will be. The idea is to achieve an everlasting death that stops the cycle. Everything experienced while waiting for that everlasting death is sorrow. Samsara."

"Are you saying that's what Helga and I have?"

"Well, you haven't yet figured out how not to hurt each other, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be in this situation."

"Oh, sure." Arnold sighed. "Go ahead and cloud the issue with facts, why don't you?"

"I think I just did."

"God what happened to us, Rhonda?"

"Which us? You and I, or you and Helga?"

"Both." Arnold's groan seemed to permeate the table. "Why is it that I can't hold down a stable relationship with a woman? Why does everything always go wrong?"

"Just lucky, I guess." Rhonda consoled him. "Come on, Arnold, I've given you all the signals that I want you back. And we both know you're not about to give up on Helga. You have options. It's up to you to use them."

"That's just it. Every time I think I know what I want, something changes, and I'm not sure if I want it anymore."

"I didn't know you had such trouble getting your heart set on someone."

"It's like I said, Rhonda. I just don't know anything anymore. Ever since Helga left me, I question everything."

"Would you like me to make the decision for you?" Rhonda asked. The offer hung in the air between them. And Arnold had no idea what to do.

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Author's Notes

Well, here we are again. Yeah, it turns out I needed a week off after all. What can I say? I was on vacation! Everyone's entitled to a little rest every now and again. I do wish I knew what happened to everyone last time. Very few of the regular crowd reviewed, so I can only assume that the majority of readers really didn't like what I did. I hate it when I disappointment my fans, so I assure you that this hasn't gone unnoticed. I promise not to do anything like that again, everyone. I'm really sorry!

Ok, now that that's out of the way, onto some structure stuff. I haven't forgotten about Sid and Nadine, expect to see an update with them in the next chapter. We'll also see the first steps of Arnold and Helga settling into their homelife, and I'll open with Arnold and Rhonda since I really short changed them here. I just ran out of time to write. There are only so many hours in a day, after all! And I try my best. But some weeks, it just isn't good enough.

Anyway, hopefully people are still reading this story. I fear that with my absence for 2 weeks, and the cold reception to the last update, that I might have lost my touch. In response, I'm trying to rededicate myself to my writing. I'll try to make it worth you while each week.

Well, I guess you know the drill. I'm back, maybe I'm even beautiful. Okay, that last one was a stretch. It's 6:30 AM, and I'm tired. Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

08/29/05

6:39AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	12. New Horizons

"New Horizons"

The air around the table seemed to tingle with electricity as Rhonda patiently waited for Arnold to delegate the decision to her. After a span of nearly two minutes during which neither party said anything, it became apparent to Rhonda that he wasn't going to be the first to speak. Rhonda took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and smiled at the boy she loved with all her heart. Pataki had good taste in men, she had to credit Helga with that. If there was one thing Rhonda envied the girl for, it wasn't her fleeting marriage to Arnold. It was the way in which Helga had always seen in him what had only become visible to Rhonda within the past few months. Arnold is the perfect guy. No one else could possibly compare. She had to do something. Arnold had definitely come to see something in Helga. Rhonda had no idea what, only that it presented a clear and present danger to her ever patching things up with Arnold. That could not be allowed to continue. _But how can I convince him that I'm the one who's right for him? _Rhonda drummed her fingers on the table, deep in thought. _There must be something I can appeal to, some way I can- _Rhonda's entire face seemed to light up. She had him. Rhonda rested her chin in her palms and shot Arnold a lazy, rather enticing look. Her deep, black hair fell around her face perfectly, framing her best features. All she needed now was the right voice. "Right now, you're thinking about leaving with me tonight, going off to live happily ever after in the lap of luxury, what it would be like to wake up next to me every morning, the love we both share. But you're also thinking about her. Where Helga has gone to, and if she'll ever come back. If you're supposed to wait for her, or go with me. If she'll want you back. Right now, you're thinking that the chance to stay with me forever sounds almost too good to be true. And you're wondering if taking a risk, if gambling on Helga in spite of the odds is the right choice to make."

"Yes." Arnold said softly, his eyes growing moist.

"I can't speak for what's in your heart, Arnold. Only you have that power. But I'm in love with you. Dwell on that for awhile, okay? I love you. Just me, as I am. Don't think of me as Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, fashion maven and rich bitch extraordinaire. I'm just me. Just Rhonda. The girl who used to play baseball with you in the vacant lot. Who used to play football in the mud with the rest of our class. Who came to you for advice when Nadine and I would fight, who lived in your house when I was on the skids, who helped fix you up with Nadine, who ran against you for student body president. I'm just a girl, Arnold. And maybe it's cruel of me to put you on the spot, but I'm just so afraid of losing you. You're the only man I've ever really wanted. I've had plenty of boyfriends but, well, I didn't know what love was until I found you. I don't want that feeling to go away. Not after what it took for me to get this far."

"I just. . ." Arnold started, not able to finish his sentence. He didn't know what to think.

"You don't know what decision to make. And even if you did, you don't want to because it will mean so much pain to one of us unlucky ladies. You're wondering how you'll be able to live with yourself if you break her heart or mine."

"Yes." Arnold whimpered, putting his head down on the table and trying very unsuccessfully not to cry.

"Then that only proves that you're a better man than you give yourself credit for. Most would just pick a girl and let the consequences fall to those who have to suffer."

"How can I ask forgiveness? From you or Helga? How could I have let this happen? I have no right to love both of you."

"Well then, I guess you'll just have to decide which of gorgeous gals you secretly hate." Rhonda smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"That wasn't funny, Rhonda."

"Sorry. I can't believe you still haven't realized the irony of this."

"What irony?"

"When we were in fourth grade, I made that origami marriage predictor, remember? It matched up you and Helga a hundred and ten times."

"Yeah, and then you came back the next day and said you got it all wrong."

"I did. But you ended up getting married to Helga anyway. Which means my predictor was right."

"So are you saying you didn't make a mistake?" Arnold asked, confused.

"Well, apparently that thing matched people up by marriage. There wasn't any guarantee it would make a good marriage."

"Ah, it wasn't so bad with Helga." Arnold tried to defend his nuptials.

"Well it couldn't have been a picnic, especially if she was the one who left you."

"Aha!" Arnold felt like he had figured something out. "So that's it, isn't it? You do think I should pick you over Helga!"

"You act like that's some kind of grand revelation! Doesn't this pretty much go without saying?"

"And why shouldn't I, right? I mean, Helga's the one who left me! Why shouldn't I choose you over her!"

"I wouldn't presume to tell you what to do, Arnold. I can only tell you how much I love you and want you, that I won't leave you. That I'm yours for as long as you'll have me. If that's just not enough for you, then I'm afraid I just don't know what to say."

"Forget it. I just need time to think. Look, Rhonda, I've got to get out of here."

"But where will you go?"

"Away from here. Look, come by my place again in an hour or so. I just need. . .to take a look around the neighborhood. Get my bearings. Figure out what I really feel inside. And to do that, I kind of need an unbiased opinion, much as I love your company. Just wrap my lunch and take it back with you. I'll eat it then, I promise."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Rhonda pleaded.

"For this? Positive. I really need to be fair, Rhonda."

"All right, I understand. But if you need me for anything, you know I'll be there with bells on."

"And Caprini pants?" Arnold smiled.

"I guess it's in my blood." Rhonda winked.

"Thanks. I'll see you soon."

"Hey Arnold?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I know. I love you, too. That's the whole problem, isn't it?" Arnold bowed to her as he stepped away from the table and out the door. Rhonda wondered if he'd feel the same way when next he saw her.

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_Historian's Note: Until otherwise noted, all segments featuring Sid and Nadine continue to take place on the night of Rhonda's graduation party._

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"It's complicated." Nadine groaned as she lifted a mozzarella stick from the plate that had been placed between them. A small bowl of marinara sauce was at the center of the plate. Nadine dipped her cheese into the dish daintily before biting into it. Sid took a more direct approach, hefting a stick, dipping, and taking a large bite.

"I'm double dipping, okay?" Sid mentioned before doing so. To his surprise, Nadine did not protest the action, but merely continued eating in a classy, nonchalant manner. As Nadine picked up a second stick and scooped a bit of sauce onto it, she hesitated for a moment before tasting, aware that it was something of an indirect kiss. She shuddered for a moment, not at the thought of kissing Sid, but of something else entirely, an experience much more frightening and all too real. "Nadine? You okay?"

"I'm fine, Sid."

"Well that's funny, because you don't look it. You're stressing."

"It's been a long day, and I haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately. Is that so difficult to understand?"

"In fact, it is, coming from you. Come on Nadine, I want you to talk to me!"

"You've got to be kidding me, Sid. I haven't even figured out why I'm here with you yet. Part of me thinks I must be insane."

"So what if you are? Maybe it's just time for you to put away childish things and let some of your pain out. What good is it going to do, keeping it all a secret?"

"And what makes you think I'm in pain, hmm?"

"Because if there's one thing I pride myself on being able to read, it's women. Come on Nadine. Let me help you."

Nadine grew frustrated with the conversation. "Just forget it, all right? I was a fool to think that a man could actually help me out. How could you possibly understand?"

"The only thing I can understand is that you're starting to behave like a spoiled brat to someone who only wants to be here for you."

"This isn't something I can just start talking about as I please, Sid! I used to go to a counselor, but I wouldn't talk. I'm a tough nut to crack."

"I've noticed."

Nadine frowned. "Look, can't we just pretend we're on a date or something?"

"You want to date me!" Sid was shocked. Out of all the reasons he could think of Nadine consenting to come out with him tonight, this certainly ranked among the least likely in his book.

"To be perfectly honest, yes."

"Forgive me for asking, but why?"

"Because I woke up this morning, the day I graduated from high school, and realized that it was high time I let a guy into my life again. Someone I felt that I could trust."

"Call me crazy, but didn't you say that I have a reputation among you girls?"

"Yes, you do. I, however, have decided to ask you out anyway. For some reason, there's something about you I like."

"Is it because I'm so dashing?" Sid asked, presumptively running a hand through his hair.

"No."

"Because I'm such a smooth talker?"

"Hardly." Nadine chuckled. Sid paused, stroking his chin in thought. "Okay, I give, why me?"

"Because I think that despite the rumors, despite your reputation, and despite some of the more dubious choices you've made over the years. . .I think that deep down, you're looking for love. Real love, not just something sleazy. I think you want to know what it's like to have actual feelings for someone. Maybe that's what I want as well."

"Maybe?" Sid arched an eyebrow.

"Okay, so what if it is what I want? The question is, do you want it?"

"I've never been in love." Sid admitted. "I wouldn't mind knowing what that's like."

"Good. I'm glad we had this discussion. That said, I think I'm going to order the porterhouse." Nadine said, grinning at Sid all the while. She was thrilled when his eyes went wide. "Hey, you're buying, right?"

"Yeah." Sid said sheepishly. "I'm buying."

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"You could be happier to see me, you know. I did have to leave my car back in Vegas." Helga complained

"Why would you do such a thing?" Arnold yelled. "How are you ever going to get around now."

"Well, there is that thing we call the bus. We've only been taking it around town for the majority of our lives. And then of course there's the subway if I have to go really far. I'll survive, Arnoldo. I'm a big girl, you know."

"So I've noticed."

"Oh, you too, eh Short Man?" Phil laughed as he set a large stack of pancakes down on the kitchen table. Using a spatula he lifted three of them to Helga's plate, then did the same to his grandson, before finally pushing one cake onto his own plate. "I remember the lass from when you were growin' up. Guess her figure kinda filled out too, eh Arnold!" Phil grinned while elbowing Arnold lightly in the ribs.

"Grandpa. . ."

"Yes, it is so wonderful to be young and full of love." Oskar said from the kitchen doorway, letting himself into the conversation. "Oh look, pancakes. Here, I'll eat them for you Grandpa, I wouldn't want you to get a tummy ache."

Phil whacked Oskar's hand with a spatula as the Sunset Arms' resident bum closed in. "For the last time, I'm not your grandpa, Kokoshka! And these pancakes are for the newlyweds, you no good bum!"

"Oh yeah, I'm sorry about that, you know how it is. Okay, I'll just sit here cold and hungry and watch the rest of you eat them, because I wouldn't want to be a burden to the young couple. But if it isn't too much trouble, could I lick your plates when I'm done?"

"Thanks for understanding." Helga laughed as she began eating her dinner. Arnold was amazed. It was like Helga didn't even need to come up for air. She was going to town on this simple meal like it was the greatest thing she'd ever tasted. He thought he heard her pause for a moment to offer Phil her compliments, but he couldn't be sure.

"Now there's a girl who appreciates a good old-fashioned, home cooked meal. Yep, you did real good when you picked her out, Short Man. Course, the men of our family always did know how to choose the pick of the litter. Y'know, I remember the first time your father introduced me to-"

"Wow, those pancakes sure do look pretty god, heh heh heh." Oskar spoke as though Phil wasn't even there.

Arnold sighed and gave into the inevitable. "You can go ahead and have some, Mr. Kokoshka."

"Oh, but Arnold, I wouldn't want to be a burden on you and your wife." Oskar protested as he pulled an empty plate and fork from somewhere on his person and began loading his dish down with pancakes. "But if you insist I will be a good guest and have some. Oh and if you could get me some butter and syrup, and maybe some of that powdered sugar I really like. Oh, and some coffee, and maybe some strawberries to go on top of the pancakes."

"Sure." Arnold said, rolling his eyes and getting up from the table.

"Thank you Arnold. It is so nice of you to take pity on an old man down on his luck who doesn't have anyone to look after him."

"What about Mrs. Kokoshka?" Arnold asked as he walked around the kitchen to the fridge, fetching the butterdish.

"Who?" Oskar asked. "Oh, you mean Suzie. Well sure, I mean she's okay. She's a good person."

"She's your wife, you no good bum!" Phil yelled. "Why is it that I'm making you dinner instead of her?"

"Well, you see, Suzie kicked me out of our room tonight because I wanted to play poker and she didn't want my friends coming over. But then they bailed on me because they

lost to me last week and don't want to face me again. And now here I am, all alone at night until I come down and find you."

"Man, what a sob story." Helga chuckled as she finished off the last of her meal.

"Yeah, we're real broken-hearted about it." Phil steamrolled over that line of conversation before Oskar could launch into a soliloquy about how hard he had it in life. "So, it seems you two are out a car, eh. Hmm, well, I suppose I could let you borrow the Packard until you get one of your own. Not for too long now, just enough to tide you over until you can afford a car of your own."

"Wow, thanks. . .Phil." Helga struggled with the name, not sure how she should properly address Arnold's grandfather.

"But Grandpa, we couldn't take your car, what if you need it?"

"Nonsense!" Phil insisted. "I'm only ninety years old, I ain't dead yet! Why, if I didn't feel up to taking a little walk every now and then, I'd worry I was getting sick. And you may call me Grandpa, little lady. After all, you're family now."

"But what about me, Grandpa? Why can't I call you Grandpa?" Oskar whined.

"Because if you really were a part of my family, I'd have disowned you a long time ago, Kokoshka! Now, if you'll excuse me, I feel a sudden urge to visit my office." Phil suddenly stood up and half ran out of the room.

Helga looked at Arnold for an explanation of what that was all about. Arnold just shrugged as he sat back down at the table, pushing the items Oskar had requested towards the older man. "Grandpa sometimes has digestion problems." Arnold explained.

"Oh goody, more for me!" Oskar greedily took the remainder of Phil's portion and moved it to his own plate. "Boy Arnold, these are really good pancakes. You should sit down and eat some, you don't know what you're missing."

Arnold shot Oskar a look before finally taking a bite out of his own dinner, which had grown noticeably cooler than he preferred.

"So this is where we're staying, hmm?" Helga asked now that Phil had gone. She didn't know Oskar very well and frankly didn't care if he knew that things weren't completely what they seemed to be between herself and her husband.

"This is where I'm staying, Helga. You can stay here tonight if you want. After that, I think it would be best if you went home." Arnold made it clear that he had no intent of going through the actual motions of their sham marriage.

"But Arnold, I couldn't do that! I have to stay here with you! I'm your wife! It's my duty to be by your side night and day, honey."

"That's right, you have a good woman there, Arnold. She knows how to provide for her husband. I mean, who else is going to make your meals or do your laundry or give you money for the track, eh heh heh heh."

"Stay out of this!" Helga yelled at Oskar. Cowed by Helga's sudden outburst, Kokoshka suddenly found his dinner to be as visually fascinating as it was delicious.

"Look, Helga, this is insane! We cannot be married! We've never even been lovers! We have nothing in common!" Arnold fought.

"Well then, I guess we're just going to have to take the next few months to get to know each other. **_Intimately._**" Helga emphasized, which sent a twinge of panic down Arnold's spine. "Hasn't it become clear to you, yet? You're mine now, Arnold, and I'm not letting go until we're finished."

"Helga. . ."

Arnold's wife smiled wickedly, taking her index finger and running it under her beloved's chin. She leaned herself over to whisper into Arnold's ear. "You're so cute when you resist." Arnold gulped.

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Rhonda Lloyd groaned to herself as she sat alone at a table in the diner, nursing a cup of coffee and waiting for her food to arrive. _Good one, Lloyd. You pushed him too hard, made him run away. This just isn't as easy as I thought it would be. What's wrong with me? Why can't I make him see that it's me? I'm the one who loves him like no other! How does she do it?_ Rhonda gasped at the realization of how far behind she was. _How is Helga able to hold him so well when she isn't even with him anymore. What does she have that I don't? _The answer hit Rhonda with the force of a Monday morning pop quiz. _Arnold__. She has Arnold. _

Rhonda expected that realization to make her angry, but for some reason, it didn't. Maybe she was just being more mature than she had expected. But there was nothing to be done about it by getting frustrated. She had to focus her energy on finding some way to make Arnold forget about Helga. Clearly, this was a task easier said then done. Whatever Helga had done to endear herself to Arnold, it seemed obvious to Rhonda that she had linked them together tightly. She was a shrewd one. Somehow, she had done the unthinkable. She had gotten Arnold to fall for her. To forget about the luscious Rhonda Lloyd, and replace that memory with the plain Helga Pataki. Rhonda decided that she didn't like it one bit, but it also made her respect for Helga increase tenfold. Pataki was a worthy opponent. There was something about her that Arnold wanted. And Rhonda had no doubt that if she did not change her strategy, she would lose Arnold forever. _Unacceptable_. Rhonda steeled her resolve. She cursed the day she gave into her parents and broke up with him in the first place. She hadn't stood up to them for fear they would cut her off in retribution. Rhonda knew her parents to be indulgent. She also knew her father would not tolerate a petulant child.

Rhonda crossed her arms on the table and buried her face between them, feeling like walls were closing in around her. There had to be a way out of this. But damned if she knew what it was. Her gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a vibration against her hip. Rhonda unclipped her cell phone, rolling her eyes when she saw the info on her caller I.D. "Hi Courtney."

"Rhonda! Kiss kiss! So good to talk to you again!" Courtney Gripling replied in her most bubbly voice.

"Let me guess, you can't find Helga."

"Well honestly, Rhonda dear, you haven't given me much to go on. You didn't even send me that fax you promised!"

"Oh, hell. I forgot." Rhonda deflated.

"Speaking of hell, you certainly sound like it. Anything I can help with?"

"Not unless you're a relationship therapist."

"Guy problems or best friend problems?"

"What if your best friend is your ex-boyfriend that you desperately want back, but you have this problem that he kind of loves another woman."

"Ouch. Ok, now, do you want the best friend advice, or the straight shooting advice?" Courtney asked.

"It's been a few hours since I drank anything." Rhonda cautioned her. "Better go with the best friend variety."

"Well, you could always work at reconnecting with him. Does he still have any feelings for you?"

"He told me he's in love with me, but he's also in love with her."

"There's no good solution to that one, Rhonda. If you stay, you're liable to get hurt. If you leave, you're ruining any chance you still have."

"Just lucky I guess." Rhonda moaned.

"For my money you should stay. I mean, what if he does choose you. Like you said, it's not hopeless. And if you quit, you'll only end up spending the rest of your life wondering. And I've never known you to be a quitter."

"Thanks Courtney."

"You know, I think you're just not trying hard enough."

"I've practically been throwing myself at him!"

"Right. . .and have you considered that not all men go in for that sort of thing. I know this may defy logic, but some men are looking for more than just one thing out of a woman. If you take all the challenge out of it for them, it's a turn off. Try to be less forward, a little more teasing. . .make him come to you."

"You're too much. And where, pray tell, did you learn this strategy?" Rhonda asked sarcastically.

"If you must know, I went through a period. . .too long a period. . .where I found myself without the. . .resources. . .I have known most of my life. I was Courtney Gripling, regular girl. All of a sudden, I had to learn to do a lot of things for myself. Interacting with people from a different perspective was a very eye-opening experience. And it left me better prepared to be an entrepreneur, in my opinion. Anyway, I didn't have money, but I still had my looks, and I learned how to carry myself around men of a different stature. It was fun! And to my surprise, harder than I had expected. Batting my eyelashes doesn't get me as far as it used to. Why, I remember this time at the mall when I was running short on cash and-"

"I get the idea." Rhonda cut Courtney off for fear that she would need surgery to remove the phone from her ear if she let the girl get going with her stories. "All right. I'll try it. You do, of course, realize I'll be blaming you for everything if this doesn't go well."

"Naturally. Always shoot the messenger." Courtney sighed. "Lots of luck to you. And send me that fax if you want me to look for this Hortense girl."

"Helga." Rhonda corrected.

"See? Already I'm not keeping the information straight."

"I'll fax it out right away, as soon as I leave the diner."

"Good. All right, lots of luck with the man trouble. Be seeing you!"

"Yeah, be seeing you." Rhonda disconnected the phone call, then ordered another coffee. She had to get fueled up and see Arnold again before she lost her chance to get him back.

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On the other side of the country, Courtney Gripling ended her phone conversation with Rhonda Lloyd, a frown on her face. "I'm worried about Rhonda." Courtney mused aloud, wondering or not if she should expect a response. Only one other person occupied her office. He wasn't much for words as of late. "And I really don't even know where to start trying to find this Hilda girl."

"You just leave that to me, toots."

"You don't understand! Rhonda isn't just a friend, she's my meal ticket! We'll never stay afloat without her continued cash flow. If Rhonda isn't happy, she won't be giving money to me. Which means I can't afford to pay anyone. Which means I won't be able to publish anything. Which means--" Courtney began breathing rapidly, and her palms became sweaty.

"You'll lose it all, right. Don't worry. I've got this covered."

"All right. You use every resource at your disposal to help me, I'll take care of the rest."

"Per the arrangement we agreed upon."

"Yes, yes, okay. I'll publish Noelle's book." Courtney threw her arms up in the air. "Heaven only knows what my clients are going to freak out when I have to juggle this year's schedule." She sighed.

"I have complete faith in your ability to make everything work. Now, I need to make a few preparations for this job. Call my cell when you get your fax from Rhonda."

"Fine, fine. I have some calls to make myself."

"Oh, and one other thing."

"What?"

"This Rhonda chick, is she good looking? Because it sounds to me like she'll be available soon."

"Goodbye, Carl." Courtney didn't bother dignifying his question with an answer.

"Can't blame a guy for asking. Be in touch!" Carl Foutley chuckled and left Courtney's office with a wave. After the door shut behind him, Courtney opened her desk drawer and removed a can of aerosol spray, releasing some into the air. Carl actually had something of a stately smell about him, but there was something about they boy that made her skin crawl. How he could've been spawned from the same loins as Ginger, Courtney would never know. Then again, Carl did remind her an awful lot of her own brother, and there wasn't a lot of love lost between herself and Blake either.

Courtney put her air sanitizer away and pushed a button on her desk intercom. "Dierdre? This is Courtney. Cancel the rest of my appointments for today, something's come up."

"What should I tell them?" An excited voice responded. "Or should I just make something up."

"Use your imagination. Oh, and hold my calls, too. Except for my faxes. If you see a fax come in from a Rhonda Lloyd, I want it on my desk in a jiffy!"

"Got it. Anything else?"

"That will do, Deirdre. Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Courtney cut the connection spun around in her chair, and opened the blinds. Outside, a busy industrial district was just beginning its afternoon shift. There was always, it seemed, work to be done.

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Author's Notes

It's good to be back! Not just physically, but it would appear that I'm back on track as well. Most of the old guard came back to leave a review, which is wonderful, because I truly think they help me make the story better.

I've been getting a lot of anti-Rhonda sentiment lately. I suppose that's to be expected, as the idea of Arnold settling on anyone other than Helga in the long run is border line abhorrent to most of the fandom. And I don't necessarily disagree with them. But the reason that Rhonda comes across as so perfect is because she is. She lives a lifestyle that dictates she must be. And as she grew older, it was only honed. She has rebelled against it in her own way. She's continuing to see Arnold, now against her parent's wishes. She did not go to a private high school as was expected of her. Rhonda is very special, gifted, talented, popular, beautiful. . .but the most important thing is that she has known real love, and love changes you. I have tried to present my own ideas about what these characters will be like as they grow and mature. The one I feel who will have changed the least is Arnold. But you're welcome to disagree if you like.

I finally got around to doing another segment with Sid and Nadine. I just felt it was high time I got back to those kids. I'm taking my time with them, but I promise to try and include them more often than I have been. It's been several chapters now, so I gave them their dues.

It was fun to do some stuff with Oskar, and in the future, I'll include Mr. Hyunh and Ernie Potts as well. Helga has to have some real run-in's with the rest of Arnold's extended family sooner or later, right? Plus, the story could use some color from the wacky characters. They've only just begun. I realize it was probably disappointing that I didn't really focus on Arnold and Helga this time out, but hey, if I told their story and only used big, dramatic scenes, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun. The whole format is supposed to be like its own "Hey Arnold!" movie. Think of it as an alternate universe tale where there was no "Jungle Movie". Oh, wait, that's not much of a stretch, is it?

On a personal note, I've been transferred to another department at work, with better hours and a much better job. What this essentially means is that I no longer hate that place. In fact, it's rather tolerable now. Somehow, I'll find a way to make it through, hopefully one that allows me to keep writing this story for all of you. Goodness knows I have to keep shuffling around the time I actually set aside to write, as they keep changing my schedule at work. Oh well. Happy thoughts, boys and girls!

In the meantime, please send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

9/5/05

5:09AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26

He's lonely!


	13. Cornered

"Cornered"

Helga sat on Arnold's bed, still drinking in the scenery around her. It had been years since she'd been here, and then only in secret. But now, she would be spending the night! She lifted her left leg, bending it upwards at the knee to rest her chin. This place made her feel vulnerable and girlish, an experience that was only heightened by Arnold's presence. Arnold paced his room in a circle, tossing occasional glances in Helga's direction. Helga returned them with softer expressions. Now that they were married, an equally impossible task awaited her. She had to get Arnold to accept her. "Come to bed, Arnold. It's been a long day." Helga invited him, pulling an empty spot on the mattress beside her.

"I'm not going to bed with you! We're not married, Helga! You're not my wife!" Arnold protested.

"You can keep thinking that if you like, Arnold. And you can keep saying it, but that isn't going to make it the truth. You of all people should know the futility of arguing over it, Mr. Optimism."

"I'm not sleeping in the same bed with you, Helga."

"In case you've forgotten, we have appearances to keep up. Now come to bed, Arnoldo. And relax. I'll behave myself, I promise."

"Now there's a laugh!" And Arnold did, bitterly. "You have no idea, do you? This was supposed to be my summer, Helga. This is it for me. I'm supposed to go to college in August. I was going to do everything I've always wanted to this summer. Go camping with Grandpa. Take a road trip with Gerald. Look for my own place. Go on a spending spree. The perfect way to say goodbye to being a kid, Helga. And you're messing it up for me!"

"I'm not doing anything of the sort!" Helga flattened her palm over her chest, trying to appear wounded. "I'm merely trying to have a good time myself!"

"Oh please! Why, Helga? Why did you do this!"

"If you're so dense that you haven't figured that out by now, then I'm not telling you anything!"

"How can I possibly know the reason for you! Nothing you do has ever really made sense to me! You're impossible!"

"I am not impossible! You're just too stupid to have any idea what it is a woman really wants!" Helga roared.

"In your case? Absolutely! I can't say I have much intention of finding out what, either!"

"Go to hell!"

"I'm already there!" Arnold yelled. He growled with anger, and he couldn't remember being this upset in a very long time. But Helga seemed determined to hurl him over the edge. She pushed his buttons with a precision and finesse that was almost poetic. Arnold turned his back on Helga, taking a breather in an attempt to regain his composure. Helga withered at the shun. She reached her arm out towards him, then stopped, letting it fall limply by her side. She bent her head downwards, resting her forehead against her knees and hiding her face. She couldn't bear it if he saw her like this. She couldn't bear this, either. Not from him. The man she had waited her whole miserable, lonely life for. Helga made an effort to rein in her emotions, but she couldn't prevent some of the tears from escaping her eyes. Why? Why couldn't she ever find a way to talk to this boy? More of a man, now. Funny how she hadn't noticed. Perhaps it was a defect of her love. She was blind to what she didn't want to see? How she had longed for them to grow up together. But years of heaping undeserving abuse on her love had long since crushed that dream. And now, years later, she finally had her chance to get it all back. What better time than now?

"I like you." Helga mumbled, trying to fight herself. A demon of sorts inside her seemed to rebel at the sentiment, she could taste its bile in her throat. Her stomach convulsed, but Helga stood her ground, fighting back.

"What?" Arnold turned in her direction, a softer expression on his face than when he had turned away from her. Helga kept herself hidden, pulling her legs into herself tightly and curling into a ball. "Come on, Helga. Talk to me, please!" Arnold pleaded with his wife, but did not receive a response, only muted noises that seemed to belie a deeper struggle. Feeling guilty, he crossed the distance to his bed where Helga waited, reluctantly sitting next to her. Helga seemed to withdraw further into herself at his presence, shying away from him. It took Arnold a moment to realize that Helga was sobbing, shaking. That did it. He never knew what to do with a crying woman. Nadine had cried once or twice during their courtship. Rhonda, fortunately, had been made of stronger stuff, and if she had ever cried, it hadn't been in his presence. Even with Nadine, when she cried, Arnold had found himself unable to do much more beyond holding her, words just didn't seem like enough. But Helga was not a person who gravitated towards such open forms of comfort. He had no idea how to comfort her. The fact that she was now his responsibility seemed to only complicate matters, making the situation all the more difficult. The idea of being married to Helga was entirely too reminiscent of a nightmare he had had nearly ten years earlier. The reality, thus far, wasn't much of an improvement over the fantasy. A minor one, perhaps, but not much. "Helga? Come on, it's okay. I shouldn't be yelling at you."

"Yes you should." Helga whimpered at length, her words preceded by a noise that sounded as though she were gagging.

"Don't say that." Arnold protested.

"It's not like it isn't true! You're right! I am just messing everything up!" Helga screeched, sounding as though she were being torn in two.

"Helga. . .I didn't mean it like-"

"I just wanted this to be perfect." She choked "Somewhere along the line, I just. . ."

"Why are we here, Helga?" Arnold asked quietly. "Why did you do this to us?"

"Because I. . .I lo. . .I love. . ." Helga coughed, almost spitting something up in the process.

"Go on, it's okay." Arnold encouraged her, hoping he might finally get a straight answer out of the girl.

"I love doing stuff to you." Helga let out.

Arnold sighed, his expectations dashed all too quickly. "Gee, thanks Helga."

"No. . .wait, that's not it." Helga tried to tell the truth.

"Then what?" Helga seemed to gather herself, as though she were coming alive again. She was no longer shaking, which did wonders for her aura of self-confidence. Helga leaned most of her weight against Arnold, still trying to hide her face. "Are you sure you're alright, Helga?" Arnold questioned hesitantly, beginning to worry about the drastic change in her behavior.

"Come to bed?" Helga begged.

"Helga. . ."

"Please! I won't do anything, I swear it! I just. . .I want you close by right now."

Arnold sighed, bowing to the inevitable. "Let me go get undressed." He told her, sliding away from her weight and off of the bed. He slowly stepped away and towards his chest of drawers, catching Helga's reflection in the mirror. She still looked vulnerable, not at all her usual self.

"You don't have to." Helga told him as he pulled a pair of pajamas out of the dresser and padded towards his bedroom door.

"I want to."

"No. . .I mean. . .you can stay here and change. I think you're supposed to. You're. . .my husband now, right?"

Arnold blushed profusely at the suggestion, and cleared his throat before he could embarrass himself further. "Um, if it's all the same, Helga, I really think I'd rather go change in the bathroom."

"But how are we ever going to?"

"We won't." Arnold said, stepping through the door and shutting it behind him.

"Well. . .I guess it's a start, anyway." Helga sank into a pillow on the bed, allowing herself to burrow into it. "And all good things have to start somewhere."

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Sid had only had a porterhouse steak once in his life prior to this evening. However, given that this seemed to be a special occasion, what with Nadine actually out with him and opening up a bit. He didn't know how he was going to afford to pay his car insurance this month after this dinner, but he would manage somehow. He wanted to show Nadine that he was with her every step of the way. And she certainly seemed to be having a good time. Nadine lit up like a pinball machine when her dinner was placed in front of her, and she dug in with reckless abandon, devouring her meal piece by piece. As Sid bit into his own steak, he decided instantly that it was worth every penny. Each morsel of steak was seasoned to perfection, seeming to melt in his mouth. And this was only a diner! His mind seemed to explode with the culinary possibilities of a steak like this in a proper restaurant.

"Wow, Nadine, this is incredible!" Sid took a sip of water to clear his palate and began splitting his baked potato.

"Yeah, I think that's why they attach the high price tag." Nadine chortled.

"Now this is the kind of love I can understand. Food can be beautiful!"

"Okay, now you're starting to sound like Harold."

"Oh, right. I wouldn't want that to happen!"

"Harold's harmless." Nadine scoffed.

"Yeah, he's all talk and no action. But still, he's my friend."

"I. . .don't really have any friends." Nadine frowned.

"What about Rhonda?" Sid asked.

"Rhonda and I really aren't that close anymore. We haven't been ever since, well, I guess it was when I started shutting myself in."

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened to make you do that?" Sid asked, feeling like it was becoming the sixty-four thousand dollar question.

"Perhaps. Eventually. When I'm ready." Nadine spooned a bite of potato into her mouth. "What about you? Don't you have any big secrets to tell?"

"What! And give up my reputation as a man of mystery! Oh, there's no way that's going to happen."

"Well, suit yourself." Nadine pouted. "But you'll never learn what you want to know that way."

"What!"

"Quid pro quo, my dear Sid. Quid pro quo." Nadine laughed, feeling better than she had in months, if not years.

"What's so funny!"

"Oh, come on, don't you have a sense of humor!"

"I do when there's something to laugh at."

"Hmph." Nadine pointed her nose upwards. "I'll take it that means you don't like my Hannibal Lector routine."

"That creepy guy from those movies? No way! He totally freaks me out!"

"Oooh, someone's afraid of the dark."

"I am not!" Sid protested.

"I'll bet you are!"

"Come on, Nadine. Quit teasing me!"

"Fine then! Sheesh, you're no fun." Nadine began pushing food around on her plate with her fork. Sid recognized her look. She thought he was losing interest in her.

"Wait, Nadine. . .it's not like that. I just. . .argh, why don't I know how to act around you!" Sid hung his head in frustration.

Nadine stared at her plate, pondering her date's outburst and occasionally pushing morsels of food into her mouth, no longer delighting in the taste. This wasn't going like she wanted it to, either. "Is it. . .I mean, well. . ."

"Is it what?" Sid asked pensively.

"Is it because I'm not like other girls?" Nadine asked, feeling nervous at the suggestion that she might not fit in.

"I don't know. I just. . .I want to get this right. I'm worried about hurting your feelings, Nadine."

The blonde allowed this idea to circle her mind a few times before smiling sweetly.

"You like me, don't you, Sid?" She winked.

"Well of course I like you! I told you, when I saw you tonight, I thought of how withdrawn you've been for the past year or so, and I began to worry about-"

"You began to see your next conquest." Nadine grinned, looking much like the Cheshire Cat from Wonderland.

"No, I mean, okay, maybe at first. But then I realized."

"You like me." Nadine giggled. "You _like me_ like me. . ." She half-sang the accusation, feeling flattered that a guy was expressing interest in her. There was something she liked about Sid. Something that made her feel like she could trust him, despite his reputation and his tendency to butterfly when it came to women.

"Nadine. . ." Sid was growing embarrassed, worried that someone would recognize them. "Come on, cut it out. People will talk!"

"We'll talk." Nadine winked at him. "You know what, Sid? I think this may be the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Friendship?"

"And a lot more." Nadine resumed eating her steak with the same enthusiasm she had when it first arrived. Sid stared, watching her eat as though the entire conversation hadn't even happened. And suddenly, everything he had thought that he knew about women didn't seem to mean a thing.

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_Hello, Strangers!_ By Ginger Foutley

_For most of my childhood, I've been in with the out crowd. When I first went to kindergarten, my greatest fear was that I wouldn't belong, that I wouldn't fit in. I wanted to belong. The earliest years of my life were so different. Mom said that I didn't socialize much when I was a toddler. I stayed around my home a lot. Mom would take me around with her when she would run errands, and I might end up seeing some other kids. But for the most part, it was just the two of us. And dad, when he was still around. My brother Carl didn't come along until a few months before I started nursery school. I remember not seeing enough of my dad. I still don't. It's always been like that. But somehow, he manages to be there for me when I need him most. But that's a story for another time._

_Sometimes, I wonder how I lived to be twenty-one. I mean, if I had been raising me, I would've killed myself years ago! Um, that does make sense, right? Maybe not. I tend to get punchy when I write in the middle of the night. Even now, this is writing in the loosest sense of the word. I'm spending more time staring at the walls, watching the trail of headlights dancing through my window and along the wall. People coming home from the bar to confront their lives. Full of alcohol and cigarette smoke. The blood of the beaten and the tired. The blood of cowards and fools and contenders and sad sacks and dreamers who keep smelling their wildest fantasies lying just beyond the next drink, the next tawdry affair, the next escape. These are the people who treat self-help books as the new religion, their authors the prophets of a new way of life. And sometimes, I am one of them. Yet another story I'll have to tell you later. _

_So, I was afraid when I first went to school. I wasn't sure how to act around the other kids, or what to say. I just knew that I had to be a good girl, because I didn't want to cause any problems for my mother. I don't remember the exact time I met Dodie or Macie very clearly. I remember being alone. Like there was action going on all around me, but I wasn't a part of it. But somehow they found me. Or more accurately, we found each other. There we were. The out crowd. The ones no one else wanted. But we accepted one another. What more does a kid in school want than to belong?_

_You know what, I feel the need to go off-topic again. My job is to entertain all of you every week. I'm not really required to do anything else. I think I finally realized that I'm not quite like regular people. I don't have to work 9 to 5. In fact, I have a whole week to come up with these columns. Some days, I do nothing. Sometimes, I write in piecemeal, doing a little each day and having it ready at the end of the week. Of course, what I really like to do is just sit down and write. Most of what you read is just whatever's floating through my mind at the time. Heh, looks like I have too much to think about tonight since I can't seem to keep myself focused. Miss Zorsky? If you're reading this, I'm sorry!_

_But I'm not trying to complain here. I mean, I love doing what I do. This has probably been the most rewarding experience of my life. Except maybe the first time something of mine was published. Or when I had my first real kiss. Or that time when I. . .um, I just remembered this is for the newspapers, so I'd better leave that one out. But my point, and I do have one, is that knowing that people like you are reading this thing every week is what keeps me going. Believe me, I have plenty of weeks where this is about the last thing I want to do. I just want to curl up on the couch and watch sappy movies and vegetate. And it's good to do that every now and then. But it looks like I manage to keep enough discipline that I don't miss my deadlines. I mean, I'm giving up sleep for you guys right now, right?_

_What was I saying when I started this thing? Oh, right. I already told you that I was in with the out crowd. And that suited me just fine. But as I grew older, I slowly developed an "in" with the in crowd. And things began to change. I wasn't popular, but suddenly, people knew who I was. And I didn't have to blend in with the crowd anymore. I could take a stand for the things I wanted to. When I was lucky, I might even get the support of those who ruled the social structure of Lucky Jr. High. But in truth, I ended up spending a lot of time saving the girl at the top from being toppled. I discovered that I didn't really want to be one of the popular crowd. But I did like visiting. I realize now how fortunate I was. The most popular girl in school took me under her wing, the girl who set the standards for in and out, hot and not. And yet, I had a tendency to rebel and go my own way. I've never been ashamed of who I am or where I come from. Quite the opposite, really. I've learned from long talks with my mom and my dad that I'm proud to be a Foutley. And maybe, someday, I'll have a little boy or girl who will be just as proud as I am. But until that day, I don't mind swimming along the upper echelons every now and then, standing among the beautiful people. I may be a regular girl, but I've had a taste of the popular life, and I like to keep my foot in the door. Hey, you would too! Don't look at me like that._

_Okay, that's all for now. I think I need to get back to bed. I'm starting to see double and I'm talking to myself. Moreso than usual. And you won't like me when I'm tired and snarky. Good night!_

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Half an hour later, Rhonda Lloyd stood in an office supply store, handing over a document she needed to have faxed to Connecticut. A large part of her felt that this was a bad idea, that she might in fact be making a move that would forever keep her from having a truly meaningful relationship with Arnold. _I could lie_. Rhonda thought. _I could call the whole thing off. Pretend I'm looking for her and just leave her to rot. Why shouldn't I? What has that woman ever done to Arnold but cause him pain. From the day they first me, she's been a thorn in his side. And now that she's finally gone, I'm actually having someone look for the bitch! What the hell am I thinking!_

"That'll be $2.06." The clerk informed her, and Rhonda started a moment before handing over a five dollar bill. A moment later, she was given her change and receipt, followed by the original document. It was done. Courtney had her info and her instructions.

Feeling overwhelmed, Rhonda dashed outside, needing a breath of fresh air. _Why am I doing this? It's a chance I shouldn't even be taking! _The answer came to her much easier than expected. _Because I promised.__ Because this is what you do when you love someone. You make sacrifices. You trust that things will turn out as they're meant to. Things have to turn out right between Arnold and I, they just have to! No one can ever love him like I do! Before him, I was just. . .ordinary. _The very word made her shudder, but Rhonda knew there was no denying the accusation against herself. It had taken Arnold to make her change, to make her less pretentious and help her reconnect with the rest of the world, make her less of a princess and more of a maid. And she liked who she was when she was around Arnold. He made her so much more. He excited her, thrilled her. Made her soft and vulnerable, fun-loving and free to be whomever she desired to be. And she brought out the wicked, scandalous parts of her. Her greatest regret about breaking up with the boy was that she had not expressed her love physically to him. Perhaps if they had gone through with that, things would be different than they are today. She still held out hope. Anyone had to see it. They were made for each other. Arnold and Rhonda. The Pauper and the Princess. And it didn't matter what her parents said anymore. They had learned to accept the boy as a high school romance. They would learn to accept him as something much more!

Rhonda shivered with excitement and fear about this dangerous line of thinking. Pursuing someone of Arnold's financial status so seriously could result in her being disinherited. Was he really worth the risk? _Yes. _Rhonda knew it to be true. _I could live with being poor, if I were only rich in his love. Why do we keep dancing around what we both know to be true! We need each other!_

Filling her lungs with cold, autumn air, Rhonda resolved to stop thinking and seek out the object of her affections. Wishful thinking, while comforting, would accomplish nothing. She had to find out the rest of the story. If, after everything he had gone through with Helga, there could ever truly be room for her in his heart again.

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She choked on the unsatisfactory air quality as she stood by the edge of the roof. The apartment building sprawled about ten stories high, and the girl was afforded a pleasant view of the world below her. City streets below teeming with people, strolling down the sidewalk, driving down the street, going about their lives as they did every day. She wished she could be one of those people. But Helga Pataki had long ago given up trying to be normal. She would settle for being sane. On a few occasions, she even managed not to completely disappoint herself in that department. But those were few and far between. They didn't come up often enough for her liking. But then, how often had things unfolded according to her plans? Almost never. Helga was convinced that there was some kind of cosmic force in the universe that was dedicated to working against her, doing everything it could to thwart her attempts at happiness.

She had been so close. She thought she finally had it all. But she was only fooling herself. She had done it. After fifteen long years of heartache, she had finally managed to hold Arnold in her arms as everything she had wanted him to be for her. So why wasn't that it? Why wasn't she happy with that? No, something had still been missing. She still wasn't complete. Arnold was not the whole picture, only the biggest piece. But she still had to find herself. She had to make peace with herself. Only then could she accept him in the way she needed to. Figures. Nothing's ever easy.

Helga expected her personal trials to continue. Actually living with her roommate, up close and personal, she already wondered how they hadn't killed each other. She cursed her luck. Something about her seemed to attract the people that drove her crazy. Even at work, the weird chick that no one else wanted to talk to had latched onto her like they were best friends. Somehow, she always drew the nut. Perhaps it took one to know one. Or they could smell the stink of instability on her. It had to be her fate in life to be endlessly tortured.

Helga removed a cordless phone from her pocket and proceeded to dial the number for the place she had been sharing with Arnold until a few days ago. She knew she had to talk to him, to say something, anything. But she could never find the words. There is no way Arnold could understand. He wasn't used to dealing with people like her. Weirdos, yes. But not people who were beaten and broken, who no longer knew how to function in society. He could never understand why she was so frightened of regular life. How things like having a job or a family scared the shit out of her. Why she was always running. No one could possibly understand what it was like to be an outcast from their own family. Helga hung up on the sixth ring. He wasn't coming to the phone. Even if he did, what could she possibly say to him? By now, he probably hated her. She would, if their roles were reversed. Her life would never make sense now. She wasn't even sure if she was really alive.

A loud humming noise began to fill the air, and Helga looked up to see a traffic helicopter approaching, no doubt speeding out to take a look at the latest tie up on the highway. No matter how many lanes there were, it seemed to be perpetually jammed. At times like this, Helga was glad she hadn't replaced her car after ditching the Fiesta in Vegas a few months back. Noticing that the helicopter would pass overhead, Helga laughed to herself, threw up her arms, and lifted off her shirt, holding it by one sleeve and twirling it high over her head. She thought she would feel modest about being outside wearing only a worn pair of pink shorts and white sport bra, but there was actually something liberating about the whole experience.

She was surprised when the helicopter seemed to swoop a little lower, tilting slightly in either direction before leveling off as it passed her by. It took her a moment to realize the pilot must've been waving at her. Maybe she had made someone's day. Or at least given them a good laugh. She grinned to herself as the chopper flew off. She wondered for a moment if she should've been more daring and just flashed them all. That thought quickly passed. Helga lived by a strict, "if you don't have it, don't flaunt it" philosophy, and she knew all too well that she didn't have it. She still didn't understand how Arnold could've ever been attracted to her. Now she might never know.

Sighing, Helga looked down past her skinny legs at her ratty pump sneakers. She desperately needed a new wardrobe. She had left a lot behind in Hillwood, wanting to make a quick and dirty getaway. She couldn't have borne a long goodbye, trying to explain the unexplainable, the unforgivable. She had left him. Left her heart. Betrayed her love, as she always had. It was her way, she wondered if she was even able to help it. And she hated herself for it. But what else was there for her to do? Love was simply too much of a risk. How she longed to carve her heart out of her body and live without it. If she could only learn to be as dead inside as she pretended to be outside, she wouldn't be in pain all the time. But she was not so lucky. Always dying inside, but never dead. This seemed to be her curse. Frowning, Helga gathered herself and moved toward the doorway that would take her back to her apartment. Suddenly, she felt too cold to be this naked and exposed.

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Author's Notes

Well, there we are. I've been waiting for this one for awhile. We're celebrating with this chapter. Why? Because it's September 12, and that just happens to be my one year anniversary with HA. I've been watching the show for a year now, and writing fanfiction for it since September 14 of last year. So far, I've had a good run, and the fandom has been very supportive. I couldn't have asked for a nicer reception, especially considering I had no idea what I was doing when I began. But I had to start somewhere, and I'm quite proud of what I've turned out so far. And with any luck, I still have plenty left in me.

Although it's been a good nine months since I finished _The Sweet Hereafter_, I have not forgotten my roots. As I've no doubt been promising, the conclusion to that cycle will be released this Christmas with _Ceremony Of Innocence_. Like _The Sweet Hereafter_ and _Say You Will_, I will continue the story of Arnold and Helga's developing relationship as ten year olds. _Ceremony _will be written in the same style as TSH and SYW, so if any of you have missed it, the good old first person Helga stuff will be back. I'll also be showing more of Arnold in that one, but I intend to keep the story somewhat Helga-centric so it jives with the others. This story will complete they cycle, but I will admit that the ending is wide open for me to write more any time I like. We'll see what happens in the future.

_Instant Gratification_, the story you're fortunate enough to be reading right now, has officially moved into its second stage, and I hope that you're still enjoying it. The statistics for the story seem to be fluctuating a great deal each week now, it would seem that this story no longer enjoys the solid audience it once had. I'm sorry to see that, but I'm confident that there are still people out there enjoying themselves. I hope you'll all stay. It's a wonderful feeling to know that I've made other people happy or excited, or even sad with something I wrote. It's why I'm in this business, and your responses are the only kind of pay we fanfic authors get. I hope you'll keep reading, I know that it will keep me writing.

Lastly, a little trivia. The first episode of HA I saw was "Helga's Locket" and "Sid and Germs." I really enjoyed both. It was my first experience, and I liked that I got to see too strikingly different parts of the show. I was pleased to find as I saw other episodes that there were a variety of things to be offered. To this day, my favorite style of episode are the Helga ones that focus on her as a person, or dealing with her family. I don't want to put down the more standard variety that deal with her crush on Arnold, but only a few of those are standout, whereas I find the ones that show us more than just that aspect of her personality help build her as a character. But I'm digressing now.

So yes, it's been a whole year since this whole mess started. Why, I can still remember my faithful pre-reader, Shinji, telling me how pleasantly shocked he was that I had written an HA story. And to think, I ended up watching the show purely by accident. It wasn't even a pre-meditated act. Maybe I was just supposed to discover it at the right time.

Even though the series has long since ended, I hope that all of my fellow authors will continue to keep it alive by spinning new yarns about these wonderful characters. I promise to be a contributor for some time to come. Here's to another great year!

And in case you forgot, you can send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

9/12/05

5:23AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	14. Bedroom Problems

"Bedroom Problems"

Arnold lay on his side, cheeks flushed because Helga had strategically wrapped herself around him. So far, she had been true to her word, not making any but the most cursory advances, which he allowed because fighting them would be counter-productive to sleep. Besides, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Helga's legs were nearly as long as Rhonda's, thin and strong, although Helga wasn't holding him very tightly, she seemed to be eager to please, flexible with the sleeping arrangements. She had managed to pull him against her, his back mildly hooked against her torso. Odd that someone like Helga could actually make him feel rather comfortable. If they had to spend a night together, it might not be so bad if she continued to behave herself. She was clever. She wasn't forcing him to sleep in this position, he had the freedom to move. But she was clearly indicating this was where she wanted him to stay. And after years of sleeping alone, contemplating failed relationships and wondering why he just couldn't seem to get things right, it was nice to be wanted, even by Helga. But what Arnold found most intriguing was how a girl so tall could feel so slight. Her skin was smooth, and there was almost nothing to her. Helga wore a plain pink nightshirt that came just over her waist. But she seemed to be a solid force, all bony and angled. But then, Arnold supposed that suited her personality just fine. Still, having slept cuddled with Rhonda, he had expected a bit more softness. He wondered how he possibly could've thought of the word "soft" in the same sentence as Helga, as the two were nearly antonyms. Arnold chuckled at the idea, which seemed to disturb his wife a bit.

"And just what is so funny, Football Head?" Helga wondered, shifting her weight on the bed.

"I was just thinking about the weekend I spent with Rhonda. We shared a bed at this really posh hotel. King size. If we laid at opposite ends, I could roll over three times and still not bump into her."

"Somehow, I doubt you were sleeping at opposite ends." Helga rolled her eyes, sarcasm lacing her voice.

Arnold frowned. "Not that it's any of your business, Helga, but we didn't make love. We were pretty tight, though."

"Ugh. Spare me the details." Helga scoffed, sounding annoyed.

This caused Arnold to roll onto his back, looking back at Helga. "You're jealous, aren't you!"

"I am not!" Helga scowled. "I just don't have much desire to hear about you and the princess in the sack together. Who would!"

"Everybody." Arnold chortled, thinking of how many of the guys in their class would do one better and pay good money for the experience.

"Oh, right."

"You're jealous!" Arnold insisted, raising his voice in pitch to a sing-song quality.

"Stuff it! What were you laughing about earlier?"

"Huh? Oh! I was uh, thinking about how you're so, well. . .skinny. When I was lying against you, you seemed so slight. It seemed strange, because you're so tall."

Helga blinked, trying to figure out what he could possibly be talking about. Then she began to realize. "Hmph. That's me. Presenting Helga Pataki, proud wearer of the A-cup. Did you really wake me up just to have a conversation about my breasts, or lack thereof? I'm shocked! You're more of a guy than I give you credit for."

"That's not what I meant, Helga." Arnold groaned.

"Then what?"

"I don't know, I just was expecting something. . .different."

"Well sorry to disappoint you." Helga closed her eyes and turned her head, trying to illustrate she was hurt.

"I'm not disappointed!"

"Look, Arnold, it's not that big a deal. I'm not sensitive about my boobs. I mean, there are plenty of advantages to not being well-endowed. Like if I decide to lend my skills to the girls' volleyball team for practice, or if I feel like jogging around the track to let off some steam, it's no big deal. I know that I'm not the one guys are staring at. And when I had to do interviews for the school paper, usually with these hormone crazed jocks who couldn't find America on a basic world map, well, then at least I could keep his eyes focused on me instead of him having a conversation with my chest. So no, I'm not really all that disappointed in my growth. I can even wear any bathing suit I want, I don't have to worry about how it makes them look."

"Oh? Have you ever stuffed yourself?" Arnold chided, feeling bold. He grinned like a cat.

"Shut up!"

"I'm serious! Come on, you're telling me you never once added a little tissue paper so you could fill out a dress or wear something a little low cut?"

"Shows what you know. Bubble wrap is all the rage these days, bucko. But maybe you should ask Rhonda. She's the expert on appearances."

"Rhonda stuffs herself!" Arnold asked, his mouth agape at the notion.

"How should I know? She was your girlfriend! You're the one who's seen her in all her glory!"

"I guess I didn't pay all that much attention. . ."

"Figures." Helga rolled her eyes. "You always were a leg guy."

"What! I am not!"

"Oh, please! Did you really think I wouldn't notice over the years? I'm a reporter, Arnold. It's my job to observe. Your eyes were always watching Rhonda strut. Now that made all the girls jealous. And for the record, Arnoldo, Rhonda is obviously a B cup, everyone knows that. Although that does prove that you weren't dating girls from their mammary glands. That's worth something in my book."

"I always date a girl for her personality, Helga. It's my policy."

"You know, as unlikely as this may seem, I believe you."

"You do?"

"Of course! I've followed your 'career' pretty closely. I have to admit, you and Nadine did make a pretty cute couple." Helga paused in her thought, struggling to keep a straight face. The notion of saying something positive about Arnold being with a girl other than herself was nauseating. "Whatever happened to that, anyway? Did Rhonda come between you?"

"No. I still don't know what happened. She just. . .dumped me. She wasn't angry or hurt, I never saw her with another guy. She never even gave a reason. She just told me that she was very sorry, and that we couldn't see each other anymore. But whenever I see her now, she always seems so nervous if our eyes meet. Like she's afraid of me. I just don't get it. Nadine and I were so good. She was always Grandpa's favorite.

"Nadine, and not Rhonda?" Helga questioned.

"Oh, he liked Rhonda too. But I think she scared him a little. You know, she's from a different world than he is, so he always felt a little intimidated. Plus, he thought she looked at me with this hunger, like she didn't dare let me out of her sight for long periods at a time. She wasn't clingy. But she was. . .close. We were close. Things were almost always intimate between us. Funny how we went from two people who passed in the hall to being joined at the hip. Sharing hopes and dreams and secrets about each other we'd never dare tell anyone else. It was like we always knew each other, like we were extensions of each other. Rhonda was everything I ever wanted in a woman."

Helga blinked, drinking in every word that poured out of her husband, growing more worried with each breath that even with her own desperate act, she was too late to ever hope to experience his affections. Realizing that this line of conversation must be painful for Arnold, Helga tried to be comforting, offering something Arnold would count on from her. Good old sarcasm. "A great set of legs and an ass to match?"

"No. Someone to love me. Unconditionally. That's all I ever wanted in Ruth McDougal. In Lila. In Nadine, and especially Rhonda. And when I was with Rhonda, for a time, I thought I finally had that. But it seems my luck with women continues. Her parents gave her an ultimatum. They didn't want us getting any ideas about being together past high school. And she was a dutiful daughter. She broke up with me."

Helga's breath caught at this revelation. _Arnold__ has always wanted to be loved? Unconditionally? Oh my darling, if only you knew. You are, my flaxen haired angel. I've been loving you for fifteen years! Ever since I first saw you, I've always loved you for who you are! Oh, why didn't you tell me sooner, Football Head? Don't you know that I could be the girl of your dreams? I know I could, if you'll only let me! If I'll only let myself! I'm the girl, Arnold! I'm the girl that has always, through everything, loved you! I will always love you! Don't you know that? Why don't you know that!_ Helga shook her head, feeling her eyes tearing up. She had to get control of herself. "It will happen for you, Arnold. You just need to have a little faith. You can't hurry love. Believe me, I know."

"I'm not trying to hurry it. I'm trying to hold onto it."

Helga nodded, yawning slightly. "You will when the time is right. I hope you'll believe in me."

"I'll try."

"Look, I, uh. . .I'm gonna get some sleep. We've got a big day tomorrow."

"Doing what?" Arnold asked, confused.

"Meeting my parents, doi! Oh, that's going to be a real pleasant time. Having dinner with them is like taking your life into your hands."

"Do we have to?"

"We have to sooner or later. I'd rather do it sooner and just get it over with. Then we can get on with our lives. Oh, and if anyone asks, we made whoopee, and it was way better than last time."

"Helga, there hasn't even been a first time!"

"We know that. They don't have to. Unless, of course, you want to listen to the rest of your 'family' giving us sexual pointers over breakfast. I'm sure that will be a blast."

"Okay, okay, point taken!" Arnold relented, chuckling mildly at the idea of Suzie whispering in Helga's ear.

There was quiet as Arnold rolled back onto his side. Helga remained on her back. This time, she noticed that Arnold rested against her more easily, and she grinned like a schoolgirl at the thought. After a few minutes, Helga finally broke the silence. "Hey Arnold?"

"Mmm?" Arnold asked sleepily, sounding only half awake.

"You still mad at me?" Helga asked. Arnold didn't answer. After several long moments, Helga reached out, her fingers finding tufts of his hair and cupping the strands slightly. She lovingly twirled a bit of it around her index finger, careful not to pull it or disturb him. "Arnold? I'm sorry, I just. . .I just. . ."

"Goodnight, Helga." Arnold said, sounding like he was between sleep and consciousness. The sounds of silence began to haunt Helga as Arnold drifted off. She lost track of how many times she had to blink the tears out of her eyes before sleep took her.

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Rhonda stood at the apex of the small stone bridge that stretched across the river, gazing at the water below as it flowed beneath the arch, watching as the reflections of objects above danced on the rippling surface. This was a spot that everyone had visited at one time or another. Rhonda imagined that the current carried away all the worries and anxieties of those that stood in this spot. It somehow made things more bearable. Her entire life, such as she knew it, felt like it was devolving into a coin toss. A competition between herself and Helga Pataki. The other girl wasn't even present, and yet, Rhonda feared losing to her now more than ever.

The obvious strategy, of course, was to find a way to break Helga's spell, to release Arnold from the power that girl held over him. But how? How had Helga become such an all-powerful force in his life to begin with? There was nothing in Arnold's story to explain the phenomenon. At least, not yet. This just didn't make sense! Girls like Helga Pataki did not get men like Arnold! It was unnatural! And yet, perhaps love was unnatural. Looking back, the story of her own courtship with Arnold, taking them from mere acquaintances to intimate lovers, was murky at best. There was no simple way to explain how love had bloomed between them. It just had. As far as Rhonda could tell, it had begun when she had taken the bus one afternoon. It had been crowded, and Arnold, being the gentleman he always is, had offered to share his seat with her. It didn't take long for the two of them to start sharing stories about when they were kids, reminiscing about the adventures they had had, and the two of them had become liken to old friends in no time at all. The bus ride had ended entirely too quickly, phone numbers were exchanged, and that night, for the first time in more years than she cared to count, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd had called a boy. She always preferred that they call her, such was the order of things. Being the ruler of the school's beautiful people, it was up to the various boys of her class to seek her favors, not the other way around. But this had been entirely too important to play games over. Rhonda knew she couldn't risk letting whatever this was slip away. This was her chance to dream. A hastily arranged date was made for that evening, an embrace on the front porch of his dilapidated boarding house, and their fate was sealed. They were one. Two souls lacking something that could be found again whenever they were together. Truly, it had been a blessing from some higher power or order. Arnold was air. Someone to save her when she was drowning at the top. Someone who dared to liberate Rhonda Wellington Lloyd from the trappings of high society. She had always had the money and the stature to do whatever she pleased. But now, she had something to look forward to. Life at the top was not nearly so glamorous as most chose to believe. It had actually grown rather dull and tedious, save for the occasional shopping trip out of the country. Arnold had reminded her of a world that she had forgotten about sometime in middle school. And ever since, she had been determined to keep one foot in both worlds. Rich and poor, elite and common. Everything had been going so well. Even her darling parents had accepted Arnold, for a time. But the truth soon came to light; Arnold made a fine boyfriend, but he was not considered to be a proper suitor. At the time, she had been presented with the option of breaking things off with Arnold or a suitable fiancée would be chosen for her. Arnold, of course, had agreed to the breakup so as to spare Rhonda from having to make a painful and equally complicated decision. Arnold was always doing that sort of thing, falling on his own sword if it would save someone else's life. Goodness knew how often he had tried to do so for Helga over the years, not that she would ever let him. Maybe it was somehow right for Arnold to end up with that girl. But still, Rhonda could not help wondering what she and Arnold had done to each other in that horrible, unjust breakup. Had he driven her into the arms of Helga? Was his desperation so great the he welcomed Helga's affections despite what she had done to him? And was it too late for her? Was it even possible to rekindle a love that had been so special, so fragile? They had been known for so long as the princess and the pauper, the class couple. But was it only high school love? Was Helga only high school love? Which of the two could be considered real?

Rhonda's thoughts turned to Helga, the powerful girl with blonde hair who seemed to take no prisoners, in life and in love, and she shivered. Perhaps Helga was Arnold's girl after all. Like herself, Helga had blonde hair, and was extremely leggy, and despite her usually demeanor, Rhonda granted that Helga obviously loved the boy. She had dedicated her life to his pursuit, even tricking him into marriage in a desperate attempt to prove herself. She was a fighter, which prompted Rhonda to wonder about what could possibly have happened between those two. Why would Helga Pataki, who had risked it all to be with Arnold, suddenly back down, willing to lose everything? And what was yet to come? This tapestry that was unfolding between the three of them seemed to be a work in progress, being woven with each move they made. If only one of them could be with Arnold, then Rhonda knew it had to be her. She would not give up Arnold. Not to Helga. Not while she still had strength in her to fight.

There had been enough delays, enough excuses to put off the inevitable. Rhonda turned away from the water, beginning a slow but steady walk back to the home Arnold and Helga had made for themselves. It was time for her to hear the rest of Arnold's story. And ultimately, time for the man she adored to choose which girl was truly right for him.

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Helga awoke in the middle of the night with a start. Nothing had changed. It was dark, the walls of the room still holding the same warmth as they had when she had finally dropped off next to Arnold, hours ago. She knew she couldn't make it through the night. The stars above, shining through the skylight, seemed to be haunting her, asking her questions she could never answer. Arnold, Arnold, Arnold. Why did it always have to be him? Hadn't fifteen years of longing been enough? Couldn't she make her heart settle for someone else? What was the point of continuing on this path? Even if she could get Arnold to forgive her, he certainly wasn't going to fall for her. If anything, she had probably only succeeded in pushing him farther away from her. So why, then, had she gone to all this trouble?

"I don't know why." Helga whispered to the stars. "It just has to be you, Arnold. You're the only person I know who has the ability to make me real. Who forces me to engage the better parts of myself. . .when you're not looking, anyway. I don't wish myself on you, honest. I know what I am. I'm a giant pain in the ass. Everyone thinks so. Even my own parents see me as this big burden they have to put up with. Maybe it's just rotten luck that you get the dubious honor of being the only man I could ever love. I guess if that hasn't changed by now, it just isn't going to. I wish I could act normally around you." Helga cursed herself, clenching the sheet in her hands. "I try, I really do! But I just can't help myself! There's just something inside me that won't let you know the truth! I guess I've decided that I'd rather spend my entire life pining over you, wondering if we ever had a future. Because it's less painful than getting the inevitable rejection. I can't ever hear that horrible truth. I need to be able to keep kidding myself, Arnold. I need to have my fantasy to escape into whenever life gets too real for me. It's how I cope, how I stay alive. Funny how this is all I ever wanted. I just wanted to spend the night with you. I want to spend my life with you, make you happy. But I can't even allow myself to be happy. Every time I'm on the verge of ending this horrid cycle of torture I put us through, I let myself fall back in. And maybe this is it. You said it yourself. You're going away. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let you go because you haven't succeeded yet. You haven't saved me. And I know you want to. I know that you can see right through me. You've always known how full of shit I am and you never call me on it? Why are you always so nice to me? Why do you always let me clothe myself in my lies? Why, when you know you could make me own up to the truth any time you please? I know you like me, Arnold. I know you care about me. It may not be the same way I feel about you, but it's still there! But you still won't do it, will you? You won't ever force me to play it straight with you! Is that why I am reduced to this? Pouring my heart out to you while you sleep, praying that some part of you can hear me! You have to do it, Arnold. You must know by now that I just can't do it willingly. I've tried so hard, but I just can't do it. So I'm begging you to do what I can't! Because like it or not, there is no woman on this earth who will ever love you like I do! There never will be! And if any girl dares to think she can compete with the intensity of my emotions, then she's a fool, or a liar, and a big one at that! Let your Ruth, or you Lila, or your Summer, or your Nadine, or your precious Rhonda try! And I will teach them the true meaning of love! The horrors of love that stretches on for infinity, never answered, never reciprocating, always hoping, always alone. It's never satisfied, never sated. And I will go on loving you long after I'm dead and buried and my name has been forgotten along with the rest of the flotsam and jetsam of our generation. I'm counting on you, Arnold. Save me from myself, please!"

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Author's Notes

Wow, what a week I've had. I got sick, my mother had surgery on her spine, and I just finished a grueling four rounds in the New England Invitational (a Pro Mini-Golf tournament) before coming home to write the majority of this chapter, I've been so busy. And now I'm tired. In fact, I had to go take a nap before finishing this thing. I'm only human!

I wanted to thank everyone who responded to the last chapter. It's been a long time since I've gotten that many reviews, and it really helped to lift my spirits. This was a tough week to get through, and I practically crawled out of work on Friday night. Recently, my hours changed for the better. At long last, I have a Monday-Friday schedule. The downside is, I used to dedicate Fridays to writing, so I have to sacrifice a lot more now to get these chapters out. Nevertheless, I intend to keep writing this story. I'll make it work somehow. I don't anticipate having to miss updates, but it may happen every now and again. I can tell you that I will definitely have to put this story on hiatus for a brief period come December, but that will be so that I can work on _Ceremony Of Innocence_, which I expect to have available on Christmas morning if all goes according to plan. Consider it my gift to all my loyal fans who are always there with encouragement and support when I'm drowning.

Getting back to _Instant Gratification_, I have to say that the entire Arnold/Helga scene I put together for this chapter made me very proud. I really feel like I hit one out of the park with that scene, but I won't know for certain until after you've read it. I'm really anxious to hear people's thoughts on that, so I hope you'll share. If you're too shy to review, send me an e-mail or IM. I've also recently joined the MSN Group _Arnold's Room_. I'm known there as Lord Malachite, but a lot of people are probably referring to me as "that guy who keeps buying up all the HA cels and production art." But seriously, there are lots of different ways to get in touch with me, so don't be a stranger.

I guess this is a good time to answer some questions that popped up. I'm not going to address anyone by name as part of my new CYA (look it up online if you're not sure what that one means) policy, but I believe this should address any questions I got in reviews. If you feel I missed you, ask again, and I'll make sure to get you next time.

I can't tell you all what the pairing is in _Ceremony Of Innocence_. It takes place after _The Sweet Hereafter _and _Say You Will_, so it follows the events of those stories and will pick up a few loose strings. As for Helga, we'll be seeing her about ten months out from the events of Valentine's Day. Lila will be featured prominently in this story (feel free to boo and hiss any time) but as to whether this is a pairing between Arnold and Lila, or Arnold and Helga, well, that would just be giving away the whole story, now wouldn't it? I can tell you that Helga is no less an important character than Lila, but you'll just have to wait for the answer.

As for Helga in _Instant Gratification, _there's so much of her in me that it's usually very painful for me to write her. I watch her, in the show, in fanfics, and even in my own works. . .making many of the same mistakes I've made. I put a lot of myself into her when writing. That's what made parts of _The Sweet Hereafter_ so painful for me to write, I was exorcising a lot of my own demons. When I began this story, I think I needed a change, because I was just so emotionally exhausted after finishing my last one. It played a large part in my waiting for so long before jumping into my second epic HA fic. This one still has a long way to go. And to be honest, I don't know if I have another major HA story in me. I do have another story I have to tell besides this one and _Ceremony_, but I don't expect it to be more than ten chapters max. I love these characters, writing them is usually a pure joy. And I'm not about to retire yet. But at the same time, I don't want to risk repeating myself, or worse, being one of those writers that people talk about in chatrooms, the kind who "used to be great but now he/she is just okay."

Just a quick note to one of my most faithful reviewers, Rhonda isn't in Arnold's presence at the moment, so it would be pretty hard for her to jump him!

And as for who Arnold will end up with in the end. . .(drumroll please). . . . . . .okay, I admit it! I've always known from the beginning what the ending is. I know exactly which girl ends up with Arnold, for what reasons, how it happens, etc. I've planned it out intimately. And I'm not telling you. I can count on one hand the number of people that know, and I intend to keep it at that number. I want it to remain a very well-guarded secret. I know, I'm cruel and a tease, but you'll thank me for it later. Or hate me for it. I can live with it either way.

Okay, what else is there to say? I'm sorry the chapter was a little sparse this time. I didn't feel like doing anything with Ginger, I wanted to focus on Arnold and Helga for some reason. Then again, those two are the reason almost everyone is reading this, so I doubt anyone is disappointed that I gave them half the chapter. I gave you all a double dose of Helga this chapter, but I was feeling pretty good. I also felt that she'd been getting the short end of the stick lately, so I decided to give her some time in the spotlight. I doubt I'll get many complaints about that. Sid and Nadine will return, quite possibly next week. I've got something huge planned with Nadine, so everyone hold their breath. Well, okay, maybe it's not that big. But I think it's going to be a lot of fun, and I'm really looking forward to it. Are there any Nadine fans out there? Raise your hands or something when you review! I'll probably also sneak Carl in if I get a chance, I'll see what my writing allows for. Arnold, Helga, and Rhonda are always the primary characters, so everyone else has to compete for space as I have it. I haven't forgotten about Gerald or Phoebe, either, it's just that I haven't yet reached the point where I can reintroduce them into the story. Should be within a few chapters, I wouldn't dream of leaving them out. They're important factors in the lives of Arnold and Helga, respectively, and they have important roles to play as the story continues to unfold.

Okay, I've officially been talking for a really long time, but it's been awhile since I've put up more than cursory author's notes and begging for reviews, so I was due. You all know what's coming. Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

09/19/05

5:11AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	15. Keeping Up Appearances

"Keeping Up Appearances"

This was, perhaps, the first morning of this decade that Helga did not curse. It was the first real morning she was waking next to Arnold. Her beloved. The boy of her dreams. For too many years she had longed for him, and now, at last, an eternity of heartache could finally begin to pay off. She had never even gone through a phase as a child when she had thought that boys were yucky. How could she, when the first one she had interacted with was him? Because of him, her life had been changed forever. She occasionally wondered what kind of a girl she might have been otherwise, but now it seemed pointless. Only a fool wasted effort on such pointless pursuits. It was much more important to focus on reality, the things that were so.

Helga smiled radiantly as she stretched her arms over her head. Her legs followed suit, and she wriggled her toes, overjoyed that Arnold had not strayed too far from her in his sleep. No that there was much room for him to go anywhere. His bed was never really meant to accommodate two people, but they were making do. Despite the proximity the bed necessitated, Helga still found herself tangling her legs with his own in a futile attempt to create intimacy where none existed. Helga did not consider herself to be wise in the ways of love and affection. Little that she tried ever turned out as she wished. After fifteen years of pursuing the same boy to no avail, a change in her strategy became necessary. But even as a bride, things weren't coming out quite like she wanted. Perhaps she just didn't know enough about how to express her love physically. No one would ever accuse her of being soft or tender. And the concept of sex eluded her altogether. Not that she didn't know how to perform the act, rather that she couldn't imagine being loved by someone enough that she would want to make love to them. She dared not imagine herself with Arnold in such a position. She knew that was working out to merely a fantasy at best. She knew that any hope of making love with Arnold was slim at best. As it was, he had admitted to her that he and Rhonda had done everything but that already. Next time, Helga knew, she would not enjoy that luxury. Someone up there must have given her one last chance, taken pity on her wretchedness. How else could a boy so perfect have remained a virgin this long? This was her opportunity. Her final chance to make him see her as a woman, as the woman for him. She had ninety days to plead her case, to convince Arnold that the two of them belong together. That she isn't crazy. She had to prove herself. She had to find a way to show him that the Helga he insisted lay beneath the surface exists. He had always been right about her, it was time to prove it. Her back was to the wall. She would not allow this final chance to be wanted. It was time to show this boy the true meaning of the word love!

Helga put on her best smile, not a difficult task, considering she was in bed with her beloved. She hadn't stopped smiling since she had awoken some time ago. Just lying in bed with him sleeping next to her was enough to keep a smile on her face. This was what it meant to be happy. Her fingers stroked his hair, and a chord struck within her. She felt an image burning itself into her brain, and already it was causing her to tear up. _Was this how his mother looked at him, when she was still here?_ Helga had not seen a picture of Arnold's mother, but an image still took life in her mind. She was a beautiful woman, young and fair, cradling her sleeping son in her arms, a woman with a kind smile and beautiful eyes, marveling at the miracle that was her only child, tousling his hair as he slept, promising she would always be there for him, an oath she had had every intention of keeping before the cruel hands of fate tore her life and family asunder. _Could I ever hope to fill that role? Would he allow me to be the girl who stands beside him in everything? Could I be that one person he can depend on? Oh, Arnold, even if I tell you the truth, is there any chance that you'll believe me? Do you trust in me enough to know that even I can love? Will you let me prove it to you? _Helga cried, tears that streamed down her face, salty currents that carried away her hopes and dreams, all the good things within her. "Have I been so selfish all this time, my darling?" Her voice was a whisper, an echo. "Pleading with you to save me, never recognizing that you, my sweet angel love, might need a leg up as well. I'm not much in the eyes of man, but I promise you, I am a woman like no other. You must know that by now."

He stirred beneath her, waking to another sunny day. Out of dreams that fit a prince of his stature. Helga hesitated, unsure if she should reveal herself to him like this. A lifetime of hiding screamed at her to cause this madness, but she clamped down on it, forcing herself to take a stand for once in her life, however small it might be. His hair was still flaxen, the delicious blonde hue she had adored her life. She stroked his oblong head gently, letting the strands fall between her fingers. "Good morning." Helga whispered into his ear, blowing lightly. Her trick sent a shiver down Arnold's spine, and he shifted against her, which nearly made Helga swoon. "I missed you. . ." Her voice trailed sweetly, not to sweet, but softer than she usual came across.

Arnold ignored her, trying to get back to sleep. He bundled the covers tighter around him. This brought a frown to Helga's face. She fought the urge to boot his ass out of bed and kick him back to the world of the living. It's precisely what Helga G. Pataki would do in this kind of situation. Which meant it was exactly what she couldn't do. She was a Pataki no more. She was a Short now, and it was a name that carried with it a certain amount of responsibility, certain expectations that she had to live up to. She could count on one hand, with fingers to spare, the number of times she had seen Arnold genuinely angry. More than one of those bouts of anger had been directed at her, not that she hadn't deserved it. On rare occasions, she had pushed the boy beyond even what he could bear. Each of these moments were responsible for a crack in her heart. Helga wondered how many more of them it would take for her heart to break. She always felt as though she were on the verge of shatterpoint. No more. It was time to draw on his strength.

"We can't stay in bed _all_ day, Arnold. It'll be scandalous!" Helga grinned, looking at the clock. Already 10AM. Oh yes, there would be comments. Helga hoped the inevitable teasing would not be too unbearable.

Arnold did not move much. He continued to sleep lightly, dozing next to his wife in a very natural manner. Helga hesitated, not wanting to disturb him when he looked so adorable. Perhaps he did need his rest. She had put him through a lot. And telling him that they needed to visit his parents this evening wasn't the best bedtime story she could have visited upon him last night. Arnold knew all too well that Bob didn't think too kindly of him. The two had had a series of run-ins in the past. It seemed as though they were always looking at each other across a line in the sand. Helga could remember Bob wanting to tear down Mighty Pete, trying to change the parade float Arnold had designed, allying with Sheck when the greedy developer had attempted to bulldoze Arnold's neighborhood, and organizing a ban among the high school students against her father's business when Bob had tried to muscle out his primary competition three years ago. But above all of that, Arnold was a dreamer. Bob never had much use for the type of guy Arnold was. He much preferred a man who was heavy into hard work, unless of course they were rich. If her father treated Arnold like he usually treated her, Helga figured the poor boy would be getting off easy. Not that it would end things. Then Bob would harp on her for not having the foresight to marry a man who could provide for her. Too damned bad. She was no fool. Bob expected both of his daughters to marry men that were exactly like him. He wanted to indulge his fantasy of having a son. No big surprise that had never happened. There was a full twelve years between herself and Olga. Strange that no other kids had come along in the gaping span between. It only served to reinforce Helga's stolid belief that she was an accident, and a disappointment to her father that she couldn't have been a boy. Not that she hadn't tried to play the part as best she could. Growing up, the only girl she had for a friend was Phoebe. And she always played with the boys, never let them call her weak. Most of her class had been downright scared of her, hadn't they? Not that it could ever be enough for her father. To him, she would always just be another girl, another mouth to feed. It was a rare treat when he even remembered her name properly.

"It's not that I don't _want _to stay in bed with you all day, Arnold. I wouldn't mind staying here all night until tomorrow morning." She grinned. "But we are supposed to leave the room every now and then on the honeymoon." She wasn't certain whether Arnold heard her or not, he seemed to protest facing the morning just as hard. Helga sighed, bowing to the inevitable. "Come on, Football Head. The sun's up and so are we!" Helga began pulling at the covers, making things a little less comfortable for her husband.

"Can't I just have five more minutes?" Arnold yawned, opening his bleary eyes.

Helga smiled back at him, giggling. "Well sure, I guess. We're going to get an earful as it is anyway." Arnold started when he saw her, his eyes widening for a moment before his brain caught up. "Yes, I'm still here. It's nice to see you again too."

"What time is it?" Arnold asked, deciding to sidestep the issue of sleeping next to her entirely.

"After ten."

"What! Helga, I never sleep that late! I'm always up by eight, even on the weekend!"

"I woke up around nine, I just didn't want to disturb you. You looked so cozy."

"Cozy?" Arnold's eyebrow furrowed at the notion.

"Yeah. You looked just like a baby, all burrowed into your covers. And I kind of liked being here with you. Plus you were kind of warm. I've been pretty comfortable myself, thanks to you."

"I'm glad I could help." Arnold shook his head. "Geez, ten o'clock!"

"Yup. I'm sure your grandpa is going to be ribbing you all morning, huh?"

"That's not funny, Helga! You know it wasn't like that at all!"

"Ah, let him have his fun. It will do him good to think you're so happy."

"But we're not."

"No, you're not. I know it's contrary to what you could ever think about me, Arnold, but I don't hate you."

"You're right. I don't believe it." Arnold verified.

"Well, it's true. I mean, think about it! Do you really think I would have married you if I hated you?"

"To be honest, Helga, I'm really not sure. Sometimes it's like I never know with you."

"Really? Well then, it looks like I'll just have to teach you the difference over the next few months. Look, I, um. . .I'm gonna head downstairs and scope out some breakfast. I'm starving! You coming?"

"I've got to brush my teeth first." Arnold yawned again.

"Okay." Helga reluctantly got out of the bed, wishing she didn't have to leave its charm, it's warmth. She feared she might never share a bed with Arnold again. She found her suitcase against the wall, and she opened it, pulling out a fresh white undershirt, along with white socks and panties. She frowned as she looked at the rest of her garments, not knowing what to wear. She finally settled on a pair of blue jeans and a trademark pink overshirt. She stood in front of a mirror and began peeling off her nightshirt, letting it fall to the ground next to her. She pulled off her old pair of panties and reached for a fresh undershirt, pulling it over her head and flipping her hair in the mirror. She stepped into her new underwear, pulling them up snugly to her hips. The pink shirt followed, Helga slipping her head through the top, then putting her arms through the sleeves. She carried her jeans back to the bed, sitting on her side of the mattress and working them on one leg at a time. She stood up one last time, did up her button and zipper, then sighed, looking in the mirror once more. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. Helga picked up the garments she had discarded, throwing them into the corner with her suitcase. "Take all the time you need, I'll be downstairs. . .telling stories." Helga chuckled as she opened the bedroom door and walked down the steps into the hallway.

Arnold stared after her as she left, the door falling shut behind her. He wasn't exactly sure what he had just seen. How could she have been so casual about undressing. Arnold groaned, shaking his head. "Maybe I don't want to know."

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"So Sid, I must admit I'm a little disappointed. You haven't even used a pickup line on me yet. Did I read you wrong?" Nadine frowned.

"Huh?" Sid started, being brought out of a daze.

"Okay, what's going on? You came up to me at the party, trying to make me out as the center of your world. And now it's like your losing interest." Nadine's face fell, she seemed terribly disappointed in this turn of events.

"No, that's not it Nadine. I like you. I just feel like I never really got a chance to know you. You've been so. . .withdrawn the past few years, that I-"

"I have my reasons!" Nadine insisted, forcefully interrupting.

"I'll bet you do." Sid nodded. "And I want to help you. I want to know you first, Nadine. I want to know what you like, what you aspire to, what makes you happy."

"Is this about Arnold?" Nadine asked coyly. She folded her hands in front of her, smirking when she saw Sid recoil a bit.

"It's just pretty hard to imagine!" Sid exclaimed. "You saw how he and Rhonda were together. He's gotta be the ideal guy to a lot of girls. Makes me want to ask him a few pointers."

"You want to know what kind of a boyfriend he was." Nadine punctuated her comment by taking a sip of her water.

"Well, yeah, if you don't mind."

"I think I might be able to illustrate for you." Nadine said. "I remember this one time. . .

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Arnold sat on the edge of Nadine's bed, looking uneasy. He stared at his girlfriend's pillbug farm, wondering what it must be like to lead a life without so many complications. "Nadine, are you sure you want me to help you with this? It really sounds like something Rhonda should do."

"Rhonda's away with her family. It happens on occasion, they do take a lot of trips. Not much I can do about it. I have to go through this every month, you know."

"I'm just glad I don't have to go through it." Arnold nodded.

"Well of course you don't have to!" Nadine waved her arms. "You were born that way! But really, it's not as big a deal as you might think."

"I hope not, Nadine. I really don't have any experience with this sort of thing."

"I can handle the hard part, I've done this countless times already. I just want you here for support." Nadine sat down next to her boyfriend, taking his hands in her own. "It's not like I let everyone see me like this."

"You know I think you're beautiful just as you are. You don't have to do this."

"I know." Nadine rested her head on his shoulder, her dark brown hair teasing him as though it were the only part of her his eyes were drawn to. There was a coarseness to the texture of her hair that made it more real to him. "Hey Arnold?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Didn't we just cover that?" Arnold chuckled.

"No, I mean. . ." Nadine steepled her fingers behind his back, "I was never really sure what most boys think of me. I know the whole insect thing is a little off-putting, and because I'm Mulatto. . ."

Arnold placed a hand on her cheek, wanting Nadine to know he was serious. "Nadine, you're beautiful for who you are. It doesn't matter what you do for a hobby, or what color your skin is, or how you want to dye your hair. I like you because you're you."

Nadine nodded once, then a smile returned to her face. "All the same, I think I'm going to stick with the usual. Besides, we look so cute together as blondes." Nadine lifted her head upwards, kissing him with an intensity he hadn't expected. He never did, even after months of dating her. Nadine was a sweet girl, kind hearted and thoughtful. But when she kissed you, it was much more than just lip service. She put her heart into it, and you connected with her on a level words were only a poor excuse when it came to translation. She was, once again, letting Arnold into her hopes and dreams. This was by far one of the most engaging kisses he had ever known, as he always felt whenever Nadine worked her magic on him. Arnold always wondered if the sensation had less to do with his girlfriend and more to do with his inexperience. Prior to dating Nadine, the only girl that he had ever kissed was Helga Pataki, and it wasn't exactly something he advertised. Helga, too, had been a passionate kisser. Twice they had touched lips as actors playing parts. And despite the fact that Helga seemed to hold nothing but disdain for him, her kisses had had a forceful, desperate measure beneath them, her lips conveying something soft and unspoken, something about her that was tempting, yet always just out of reach. There had, of course, been a third kiss that neither of them spoke of. To do so would've been to open the door to a world of awkward questions that they weren't ready to answer. It had driven something of a wedge between them throughout fifth grade, not that they had ever been good friends. Now they just acknowledged each other's presence when passing in the hall. But it didn't change what they had shared. When Gerald had asked what it was like to kiss both Helga and Nadine, Arnold found himself with holding the same answer. When it was over, you knew you had been kissed.

Nadine withdrew from Arnold's lips, she grinned ear to ear. "Come on, lover boy, let's go make me blonde again."

"Am I interrupting anything?" Nadine's mother cleared her throat. Nadine's grin dropped into a frown, and she spun around to face her mother, standing in the doorway.

"Mother! Can you please knock!"

"The door was open!" Nadine's mother protested. She scowled at Arnold, and he blushed, knowing he had obviously been caught in the act of kissing her daughter, rarely a comfortable position to be in. "I only came to check because you've been running water in the bathroom for nearly five minutes! From the look of things, it's a good thing I came to check on you, or the sink might have overflowed."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I was just running it for my hair. Arnold's going to help me dye it."

"I see." Was all her mother said. "Well, I'm certain it's ready now. Perhaps you should start before the water gets cold."

"We'll be right there."

"Mmm." Was the only response from Nadine's mother as she walked away.

When both teens felt the woman was at a safe distance, they began giggling. "I guess that'll teach us to be more discrete." Nadine pushed Arnold playfully. "Now, as I was saying, _lover boy_," Nadine now emphasized the pet name, "Let's get this dye job over with!" Arnold shook his head after her, a smile on his face as he followed the energetic girl. Sometimes, change could be good.

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Rhonda knocked desperately on the door to Arnold's apartment, hoping the young man had returned by now from whatever it was he had felt he needed to do by himself. "Arnold!" Rhonda called, pounding the door harder. "Arnold!"

A moment later, the door flung open from the inside, and Arnold indeed seemed to be home. "Rhonda, it's okay, I'm here. What's wrong?" He frowned slightly, worrying that yet another thing in his life was about to go wrong.

"There's something I have to tell you. And a lot of things you have to tell me!" Rhonda was speaking at a mile a minute, her entire body screamed over-excitement.

"Okay, I understand. Look, come in and settle down. Let's approach this reasonably."

Rhonda nodded her head vigorously and stepped inside, taking deep breaths as Arnold shut the door behind her. Arnold motioned his ex-girlfriend over to the couch, then made his way into the kitchen, setting up the percolator to brew a pot of coffee. "You want decaf?"

"No, regular. I like my coffee to taste like actual coffee."

"Are you sure?" Arnold asked. "You look a little wound up."

"I'll be fine! It's just, I figured it out, Arnold."

"Figured what out?"

"This whole you and me and Helga thing. I understand now."

"What about it?" After verifying that a fresh pot of coffee was indeed brewing, Arnold returned to the living room, sitting down beside Rhonda. "Okay, this should be good. So what have you got?"

Rhonda punched him slightly in the arm for his remark before sharing her revelation. "It's not about me or Helga. It's about you."

"Come again?"

"All this time, you've been wondering what you should do. Wondering whose heart you should break. Well, I'm telling you that you're looking at it all wrong. It's not a case of who deserves you more, who loves you the way you want to be loved, who is closer to you, or the prettiest, the funniest. . .whatever! It's about which woman Arnold Short needs in his life!"

"Rhonda, that's very easy for you to say. But when I think about either of you. . .it's like I can only see the good things about you. Delicate, broken young women who found me like a port in the storm. If I had my way, I would never have to make a choice between the two of you. It's only going to make one of you hate me."

"Would it? Can you be so certain?"

"What?"

"Arnold. . .if you were to tell me right now that Helga is the one girl you love above any other, that you love more than me, do you think I would be angry with you?"

"I thought that you would-"

"You would be wrong." Rhonda whispered. "You know I love you. You know that I don't want to lose you. And it's probably accurate to say that I really don't know what I'm going to do if that happens. But in spite of all that. . .I would never hate you. Not if you're being honest. Because if that's how you really felt, but you decided to be with me anyway, you would be condemning me to a life built on a lie. Make no mistake, Arnold. I don't want your pity. I want you. And if I can't have all of you, I don't want you at all. And if that's how I'm thinking, I can guarantee you that somewhere out there, Helga Pataki feels the same way, only a lot stronger about the whole thing. So what you have to do is decide which of us you can truly give everything you are to. And to help you with that, I want you to tell me the rest of the story. I think you already know what I mean to you. We had a long time to figure that out. You only got three months with Helga. Tell me everything.

"Rhonda, I really don't know what to say here."

"You don't have to say anything. Just to tell the truth. Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself. I want to know everything you were thinking during your time with Helga. If you don't let that all out in the open, you can never really love either of us."

"You really want me to do this? Even if it means we may lose what we have?"

"I think that if we don't, we _will _lose what we have. This way is a fighting chance." Rhonda crossed her legs, feeling uncomfortable.

Arnold pondered the thought for a moment, then decided she was probably right. Besides, even if he didn't end up with her, he was too close to Rhonda to not let her know everything that had happened between Helga and himself. He owed that to her. "Okay, Rhonda. I'll tell you the rest. Although parts of it may scare you."

"Helga scares me." Rhonda chided.

"I know." Arnold gulped. "She scares me too. Okay then, here's what happened. Now, we got home, and she had already sabotaged me with my grandparents. I was trapped. I had to play along with her game. We went to bed that night, and after waking up the next morning. . ."

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Author's Notes

Welcome back to the story. A lot sure has been happening lately! Sometimes it's hard for me to keep track of everything, but I'm still managing to pump out this story, one way or another. As I often state, I'm never really sure how I got it all together when the week ends, but somehow, it always gets done. I guess it's just my dedication.

I'd like to thank everyone for sticking with me so far. This story went platinum this week with over 100 reviews, and it's readers like you who make that happen. I appreciate every review, and to prove it, I'm going to talk a little this week, especially since I noticed one reviewer didn't seem to like the direction the story was headed in. But first, I'm going to address as much other stuff from the reviews as I can.

A shout out to my faithful pre-reader Shinji Langley. I never dreamed that my work would ever be compared favorably to that of Heidi Patacki, who just may be the greatest legend in this fandom. I didn't pay him to say that! Actually, I don't pay him at all. But he catches a lot of stuff! Not everything, but rest assured the chapters would look a lot worse without his red pen!

Thanks for raising your hand, ahhelga. I think Nadine is one of the more fascinating minor characters. I adore her character design, and as you can see, I worked some stuff in with her here. Anyone out there have any comments for what I did with Nadine this chapter? I'd love to hear them!

Hi again, Number 6! No, Rhonda is not the "lovable, eternally fashion obsessed Rhonda Lloyd" as she was in the series. I've expanded her character greatly. It doesn't come across very well in this iteration, because I'm really focusing on Rhonda after the fact. She was this way in high school, it was her relationship with Arnold that changed that. Arnold helped her to be more than she was. She's become so much more than the leader of the beautiful people, but she is becoming part of the real world. Because I realize that this fact is not easy to see in my story, and because I agree that showing is better than telling, I've decided to write a one-shot story about Rhonda after _Instant Gratification _is done. This story will show how she used to be, and how she changed. But I'm doing my best to tell you now because I don't think her character in this story can be fully appreciated without that knowledge.

Moving on, I have read many a fanfic where Helga is portrayed a rather well-endowed. I personally find this concept laughable. You only have to take one look at the girl to see that there isn't a lot of estrogen flowing through her. I don't see much chance that puberty is going to transform Helga from the awkward young thing she is at nine to someone who is beating the boys off with a stick at sixteen. I feel it is best for her character if she maintains the same overall character design. I don't want Helga to be beautiful, because then it would mean that the first basis for Arnold falling in love with her would be physical. I feel that is a sin against the entire concept of Helga being in love with him.

Throughout the series, Helga is not usually a likeable character. Helga is a person who always does the wrong thing. The charm is that she eventually sees the error of her ways and relents. Yes sometimes, as in "Helga And The Nanny" or "Arnold & Lila," she cannot undo what she has done. She just has to find a way to live with it. Most of the sentiment we feel towards Helga is because we all know that deep down, she's better than she lets on, and even though she can't bring herself to show it, her love is true. Now, expounding on that, I think it's wonderful that Helga is designed as she is. She isn't pretty or popular. She'll never be beautiful or dainty. I think the whole point is to show that maybe that isn't what's important. Maybe it's what is in her heart. By giving her swaggering hips and tantalizing breasts, something is being taken away from her. And so I have elected to present her as I have. Tall and thin, bony and angled, nothing physically special about her appearance. It is my firm hope that other writers might one day see things my way, I really don't know. People are free to write whatever they like, and imagine these characters growing up however they wish. Maybe this is just my own little plea for Helga. If she ever does win the attentions of the boy she loves so dearly, I'd much rather it be because Arnold likes what he sees in her, not how she fills out a dress. I think she's beautiful as she is, where it counts. End of speech.

To Acosta Pérez José Ramiro, Helga took what Arnold was saying about Rhonda really well because there's not much use in crying over it. It happened, and she didn't do anything to prevent Arnold and Rhonda's happiness while the two of them were dating. In this story, after Helga kissed him in the movie, there was never really any closure. She stopped scheming sometime in middle school because it wasn't getting her anywhere. She had come to accept that it was her role to love him from afar. She did, however, see a chance when Arnold and Rhonda broke up, and as I wrote this chapter, Helga feels this her chance to plead her case to the man of her dreams. As for what happened to Helga to cause her to leave, I really can't say without spoiling a lot. Suffice to say that I don't think she really knows what she's feeling right now (after the marriage). As for why she felt she had to leave Arnold, I'm not telling, but if you reread _The Sweet Hereafter_, you should get a lot of insight into how I imagine Helga thinks, especially in all those first person parts. I'm rather certain you can figure it out from there.

Okay, time for the big review. This one is for TheDarkLord. Because you gave me your opinions and constructive criticism, I will do my best to answer. As for fearing misled by the previews for this story, I can understand that a bit. As often happens, things changed during the creative process. Nearly all the footage I showed there will be in the story, but most of it is on the later parts, because that's all the juicy stuff. I can tell you that Rhonda had not been made out as such a primary character when I started, but I added her in because the story became much more three dimensional to me when I started with her. I desperately did not want to write another stereotypical Arnold/Helga romance story. Rhonda, and subsequently Ginger, all just came to me when I sat down for the first time to actually write something for the story. Everything has been clicking very well since then. I'm not without the occasional hiccup, but I'm really happy with how things have turned out so far. However, this story is still very much about Arnold and Helga. It's just that the story featuring them so prominently doesn't necessarily mean that it's about them living happily ever after. As I am so very fond of saying, just because you love someone doesn't mean you can live with them. It doesn't mean that you can't, either. You'll just have to wait and see how it turns out, I'm not saying!

Rhonda is not a saint. She and Arnold are two people who found each other when they needed someone most. Why did Helga get left out of that? Because she chose to stay hidden. For all her life, Helga has chosen to be safe, rather than risk her heart on something that seems to be a long shot at best. It's so much easier for her to love from afar, there's no risk in it. She has learned the format of one-sided love, and though she wishes it could be made real, she will not jeopardize what she has. If Arnold were to reject her feelings, she might never recover. Helga would rather spend the rest of her life wondering what might have been than risk finding out an answer she cannot bear to hear. Now, she has cast the die on a half-baked plot to make her dream a reality, even if only for a little while. A chance to show Arnold that there is so much more to her than meets the eye. It is a crazy scheme that is worthy of anything Helga had tried during the course of the series. Her obsession has festered for another nine years with no resolution, she must take action!

The main plot of the story is for Arnold to realize which of these girls is his soul mate. If he were to decide that now, it would make for a forgone conclusion. What is the point of me telling this story if everyone already knows the ending? It's bad form.

Helga always has a fragile mindset throughout the series. That's understandable. Having been in love a few times myself, I can't tell you enough how insecure it makes me feel. Helga has been in love with the same boy since she was three years old. And she's watched him date other girls and ignore her. Wouldn't that make you insecure? But she has never been able to get her stuff together. Helga is a wonderful character, but it's undeniable that all of her problems in love are the end result of her own refusal to take control of her life. Now, as she is becoming an adult, this is all coming back to haunt her. That is what I am trying to illustrate in the story.

I cannot say for certain whether or not you will like the ending of my story. I do hope you'll stick around, because I intend for it to be a lot of fun all the way through. But if you are looking for just a straightforward Arnold/Helga love story, I will understand if you don't want to follow. I'm the first to admit that this story is convoluted. It has a lot to say, it goes in a lot of different directions, and I intend to make it emotional at times. I would hate to disappoint anyone with it, so I hope you'll give it a try. But I won't be offended if you feel you can't continue. I don't expect for everyone to like what I write. Sometimes, I feel like I'm this story's biggest fan, and then I get an explosion of positive reviews. I'm still rather shocked that this story seems to be read by so many people. The stats seem to have stabilized at a good level. The numbers reflect that the same people are coming back week after week, and I can never express my gratitude for those of you who are so patient with my story. Whether you like it or not, I can tell you that it takes many hours each week to bring it to you, and the kind words you leave in response really do make it all worthwhile. And I hope I've managed to show that I'm listening! If anyone feels I ignored an important question or comment, let me know and I'll do my best to answer next time.

I'd also like to give a special shout out to some of the names who left reviews. I don't know if you've been here all along, or if you've just discovered my story, but I'm glad you came. The best seats are in front!

Next time, I'll try to put Ginger back in. I don't know what else I'll include. I have been greatly increasing the Arnold/Helga footage, because it's no secret that those two are "paying the bills" around here as far as reviews go. I'll try to include more stuff like I have been. It's just as much fun to read as it is to write! By the way, I did notice that I forgot to have Helga put on a bra this morning. Oh well, I'm entirely too lazy to go back and fix it. Her undershirt will have to do for today. I hope the ladies out there won't think I'm being cruel!

Okay, after all these notes, you must have something you'd like to say. Fortunately for you, you can send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

9/25/05

5:37AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	16. It Takes All Kinds

"It takes All Kinds"

"Don't stare at me like that." Helga turned her head, feeling very self-conscious. She hugged the sheets to her body, even though she was still covered with her nightshirt.

"I thought this was your idea." Arnold chuckled as he crawled across the bed on all fours, pushing himself quite literally nose-to-nose with his wife.

"Well, yes, but. . .I've never seen you like this before!"

"What can I say, you do strange things to me Helga. Actually, you've always done strange things to me. Ever since we were kids, you've always singled me out in one way or another.

"What's your point?" Helga scoffed.

"You like me." Arnold grinned.

"Didn't we already establish that?"

"Yes. But the question still remains. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you like me so much. Why do you love me?"

"Oh, geez, do we have to get into that?"

"Yes, we do."

"I'm warning you Arnold, you shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answers to." Helga warned him.

"I'm asking because I want to know the answer." Arnold insisted, his face taking on a pained expression. "You never tell me anything. Why is that?"

"I have my secrets."

"And what good are they doing you, Helga? What are you trying to protect yourself from now?"

"God. Fate. Time. I don't really know. It seems like every time I turn around, something is after my happiness, trying to take it away from me. Trying to drive me insane, to push me over the brink. Even now, you and I. . .us. . .I have trouble believing. It's too perfect. Too delicate. Nothing this good can possibly last."

"It can't if you won't let it. Helga, it's up to you. Isn't this your chance at happiness? Isn't this what you've been trying to make happen ever since you were little? I'm trying to help you believe! I'm here, and I'm real, and in spite of how crazy all of this probably is, I think it's working. Because I care about you. I like you for who you are, when you're not so determined to be someone else."

"You're asking me why I love you." Helga pursed her lips, trying to formulate a proper response to the question in her mind.

"That's right." Arnold nodded.

"Fine, I'll answer, but only if I get to ask a question first."

"You're on."

"What is love?" Helga arched her eyebrow, knowing that at long last, she had finally found a way to stop his persistence. Who could possibly answer that question without fumbling? It simply wasn't possible! Indeed, Arnold did seem taken aback. He opened his mouth several times as though to say something, but each time he stopped, seeming to need more time to contemplate his answer. Oh yes, it felt good to stymie the implacable Arnold. To finally leave him with a question he couldn't answer.

Arnold's face seemed to light up as an idea finally came to him. "Love is patient. Love is kind. Love does not envy. Love does not boast. Love is not proud. Love is not rude. Love always trusts. Love always hopes. Love never fails. Love conquers all. That's what love is, Helga. That's what it means to love someone. That you never give up on them. That you always stand beside them. You give that person the benefit of the doubt. You believe in that person with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength. That's what love is to me. Maybe you don't believe in that. Or if you did, perhaps you've lost sight of it. But I'm here to remind you of what that is."

Helga sat, trying to take the measure of this boy, this young man, who had caused her to feel such desire and despair nearly all the years of his life. And once again, he was doing it to her. He was outsmarting her, he was desperately trying to expose who she really knew herself to be, underneath all the masks and canned answers she had waiting for lesser men. Arnold always had been able to cut through her bullshit whenever he chose. It was a talent he had. If only he knew how it simultaneously excited her and frightened her, like a roller coaster ride with one too many dips.

She could feel his breath on her face, that look in his eyes that made her worry she might never pull herself back. This was insane. Marriage or no, this almost felt like it was against the rules of the game, of whatever it was that was supposed to be passing between the two of them. Point and counterpoint; give and take. This wasn't supposed to happen. But God only knows how badly she wanted it to.

She couldn't tell what was worse. Watching him leaning against her, the two of them breathing heavier than she liked to admit. That eternal moment that hovers over two people before they kiss. Does anyone really remember the instant that one becomes the other? A contact somehow so soft and gentle, yet electric and wild. Her eyes shut involuntarily, and something that sounded like a mew escaped from her throat, but it made no difference. As a child, Helga had known that the mere thought of this boy made her senses all go wacky. The reality, she found, was much, much worse. She wasn't sure if she could take it. All outside sound was shut out. Though her eyes remained closed, it hardly made any difference. She could still see him. Brighter and more clearly than she ever had before. Oh yes, she knew this boy. She knew him better than he knew himself. She could feel him pushing her backwards, her head resting against the pillow, his lips expressing that this was urgent. He had her. Why did he always have her?

She flipped them over, wanting to be the one stretched out over him. He accommodated her weight easily, as though she were nothing. Oh yes, he knew how to kiss. At least, she was pretty sure he knew. She certainly didn't. He was very gentle, his kisses true but gentlemanly. He was almost too polite, and Helga felt a smile on her face as she ventured forth with her tongue, running it once across the front of his teeth. She felt him break contact for a moment, looking at her hesitantly. Helga kept a smile on her face, giving his nose a long, playful lick before pressing her lips against his, this time more fervently than before. She giggled as his hands seized her hair with a ferocity, and she broke away to toss her head back, allowing the long, golden strands to fall about her face nicely. He seemed pleased with the way it fell about him as well when they went for a third round. She found herself holding him tightly, which seemed odd. Her entire life had been dedicated to pushing the boy away, now she couldn't keep him close enough. No question about it, she was certifiable.

He finally took her in one fell swoop, his own tongue probing against her own as though knowing what it would find. She felt as though she were being inspected, laid out on an examination table to be studied and exposed. It wasn't fair! It wasn't right for him to know her secret, the one thing that kept her going when all else was lost. She always felt so naked next to him.

He spoke to her now, muted whispers blocked out by their mutual refusal to give passion a rest. There were promises, that she knew. Promises he knew he had every intention of keeping, promises it was unlikely any one person could keep. She'd never allowed herself to even dream of being kissed so intently. The worser parts of her repeatedly screamed for her to stop, but she resisted. What if she could never bring herself to know this kind of connection again. The acting had to stop.

Helga felt as though she were being quietly smothered, and it was not disagreeable. Everything about herself she couldn't stand was being let out in one breath, one push. Perhaps it wouldn't last, but that thought only made this moment all the sweeter. As though reading her mind, Arnold extricated himself from their lip lock, disappointing Helga and making her feel very sexually frustrated. "Why. . .did you. . .stop?" Helga managed to ask in between breaths, having forgotten during the ordeal how good it felt to breathe.

He looked up at her, his facial expression seemed neutral, puzzled. He was looking for something in her eyes. Perhaps some response to whatever he had been trying to say while they were making out? For whatever reason, she let him have it. Helga took his wonderfully oblong shaped head in her hands and gave him her best smile, a smile she only reserved for him, a smile she hid in secrecy, that she never let anyone else see. "I love you." She whispered. Her voice was low, sultry, as though her words carried more meaning than he could ever understand. He would be right to think so. She kissed him again, dangerously, violently, as though this were an emergency of the most intimate proportions.

All her life, Helga G. Pataki had never known intimacy. She had run from it. There wasn't anyone suitable to know and desire her the way she wanted to be known and desired. No one, save one boy. And she had to spare him that. She knew that he could never fall for the monster that dwelled within her. And so, she had chosen to hide herself well. Always pining for the person she prayed would fix her, would make her complete. Always pretending to be someone different so that he would never suspect. How many times had she tried to stop the madness, only to continue on as she always did?

Only now, it no longer mattered. The days of Helga G. Pataki were gone, and the reign of Helga Short had begun. She finally could bleed all the horrible things about her away and be the girl Arnold had always known her to be. All she needed now, was simple acknowledgement.

"I know." Arnold whispered back, kissing her just as intensely, reaching up the back of her shirt to grasp her shoulders. Oh yes, it was going to be a wonderful evening.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_You open your front door one morning, step down the walkway to your waiting car, and you're wondering exactly what point it was when you stopped kidding yourself that someday, you would quit your job and do something constructive with your life. You can't put your finger on that turning point, you don't remember giving up on your dreams. But sure enough, you pushed them farther and farther into the back burner, until eventually there was no room left for them. All the petty concerns of life muscled their way in. Work probably had a lot to do with it. After all, you had all those bills piling up like crazy, right? You have to do something about those when they start to tell you guys are coming to your house. Maybe, if you're lucky, you have time to play with the kids. Except they're too busy being raised by everybody but you. _

_Okay, I know, I'm being harsh. And I'm not trying to sound all holier-than-thou with you. I'm no parent, and I have fewer responsibilities than a lot of people. Don't get mad, I'm not trying to point fingers. But there's something wrong with a society where we allow things like daycare to become a staple. Call me old-fashioned, but I feel that if you want your kids to grow up with the same values you have, you need to be the one with them when they're young and impressionable. As a parent, you have to do everything you can to ensure that your children grow up right. And it's so hard for that to happen these days. Especially because as they get older, they're going to rebel against you. All children do. If you don't believe me, just ask my mom. Rebellion takes a lot of forms. It's not about going goth or smoking pot, or the music they listen to. It's this strange, powerful force that just makes kids want to be different than your parents. Parents who are neat freaks have kids who are slobs. It just seems to be the order of things. But I'll let you in on a little secret. Kids want to please their parents. They'll deny it until they're blue in the face after they become teenagers, but that doesn't make it any less true. _

_I don't know, maybe I just see things a lot differently now than I did while I was in high school. I've moved passed the whole mother/daughter relationship thing. My mother and I are more like best friends now. And maybe that's how it's supposed to be. I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions. My mom gives me advice sometimes, but in the end, I still have my own choices to make. If I make a sharp right when she advises me to take a left, she just shrugs. After the fact, she'll even tell me she knew I wasn't going to listen to her. Funny how she seems to know whenever I'm going to find things out for myself, the hard way. Then again, the woman did give birth to me, so I suppose nothing I do should be a genuine surprise to her. _

_Sometimes, I wonder if I have what it takes to be a parent. Granted, I haven't exactly had to step up and fulfill that role yet. I don't really want to get pregnant, not yet. I think I'm still on the road to marriage. I'm getting there but it hasn't happened yet, and I really don't want to have a kid before I'm married. I had to grow up with only one parent most of the time because my folks split when I was little. I think my mother did a damn good job with me, and especially with Carl. I should probably ask her how many years the two of us took off her life. Probably too many to count. She's a hospital nurse as it is, I don't think I'll ever know how she managed to do that for ten hours a day and still find time for us at night. Maybe it's just one of those things you do when you're a mom. You don't think about it, you just do it. That I can understand. That's what they call love. It takes all kinds to make the world go 'round. Love, I mean. I try my best to be grateful to my mother, to show her how much I appreciate everything she did for me. I think we forget to honor our parents like that. We've got Hallmark holidays in May and June. But is that really enough? I'm not saying we need to put our lives on hold to go kowtow to our parents, but. . .when was the last time you did something nice for anyone in your family that didn't have something to do with a birthday or holiday? Have you ever brought your mother flowers just because you've been thinking about her? Or sat and talked with your father about life? Or how about a big one. . .talking intimately with your brother or sister. I'm no saint. Carl and I never got along all that well. We tolerated each other's presence. But we never really had much in common other than DNA. Even now, when I get a phone call from him, it's usually to make sure I'm still on for Thanksgiving or Christmas or whatnot. Somewhere along the line, we started living separate lives, and that makes me sad. I look around at how my family life has evolved, how we've all grown apart, and I worry that it's starting to give me a fear of intimacy. Is this how things are supposed to be? If Darren and I get married, is that what will happen with us? Will we grow apart until we're just passing like two ships in the night, happening to live in the same house? I don't want that kind of relationship with anyone. I wonder if it's still possible to reconnect with my family. Maybe it just isn't possible to get that kind of relationship back with my brother. God, saying this makes me feel so old, but is youth really wasted on the young? All those years we spent yelling at each other to get out of our respective rooms. What was it all for? Weren't we supposed to understand each other better? We are both the progeny of the same parents. You would think that makes us special, like we should really get each other. Then again, if you've ever met Carl, you'd probably believe that he's beyond getting. I never really expected to miss the little booger. That'll teach me._

_"Tired of lying in the sunshine; staying home to watch the rain_

_And you are young and life is long; and there is time to kill today_

_And then one day you find; ten years have got behind you_

_No one told you when to run; you missed the starting gun_

_Every year is getting shorter; never seem to find the time_

_Plans that either come to naught; or half a page of scribbled lines"_

_--_Pink Floyd, "Time"

_Isn't it ironic that a band from my mother's generation said it best? Procrastination isn't going to get you anywhere. Take it from someone who knows. You have to stand up to yourself, to your laziness or lethargy. It's easy to put things off until the next day, or the day after that. Don't do that with your family, your friends, the people you love. Because one day, you might wake up to find that person has moved on, or worse, passed away. It happened to a good friend of mine, and one day, I have no doubt it will happen to me. So I beg you to take this one to heart. Maybe I've been a little serious today. I usually don't like to get too heavy. But when I have something to say, I say it. Even if I know not everyone will listen. At least I can say I tried. Try not to think me too preachy. Ok, if anyone needs me, I'll be in my den, looking through photo albums and drinking herbal tea. _

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"Something tells me that isn't what happened that morning, Arnold." Rhonda gave him a look that expressed she didn't enjoy being lied to.

"Sorry, I was just trying to get your attention." Arnold grinned.

"If you mean that you were trying to make me jealous, then congratulations, you've succeeded admirably."

"But I thought you wanted to know what it was like whenever Helga and I got a little intimate."

"Well of course! I'll have you know that I'm very disappointed in myself. The fact that you feel you've found a woman that can compete with me is a little disconcerting. I mean, no offense meant to her, but I've always prided myself on haunting a man's dreams."

"Hey, don't be too hard on yourself. You did haunt mine, the whole time we were dating. And some of the time after we broke up, too. And Helga started haunting my dreams the instant I found it we were married. The difference was, with her, it really felt like a nightmare. At least it did at first. Now I don't really know what to think. But she always was some woman. Crazy. Exciting. Unpredictable."

"Sounds like your type all right." Rhonda rolled her eyes.

"I know, I know, she's nothing like the kind of women I usually date. Maybe that's what attracted me to her. I don't know."

"Like a moth to a flame, eh?"

"That wasn't a very pleasant metaphor." Arnold sulked.

"I'm sorry. What can I say? She is my competition. Besides, I think we both know I can be just as dangerous."

"If not more so." Arnold nodded in response. "You know, my Grandpa tried to warn me about you fast women."

"Fast!" Rhonda fanned her right hand against her chest, trying to look indignant. "I am not fast! If you don't believe me, ask some of my previous male companions. Most of them will tell you that I'm a terrible tease."

"Oh really? Then why were you so open with me?"

"Because I'm in love with you. They were just distractions."

"Distractions." Arnold pursed his lips.

"That's right."

"Sometimes I feel like my entire life is a distraction. That I'm missing the big picture."

"Maybe you are." Rhonda took both of his hands in her own, holding them tightly. "Arnold, this story. You and me. You and Helga. And whatever the future may hold. This is about you finding what you need. This is about finding yourself. You told me that you love us both and I believe you. But you're still hiding. You're so afraid of confronting the fact that we cannot share you. Much as I'm sure you'd love to indulge that most typical of male fantasies, I can assure you that you can't have us both. I want you all to myself. And as we've already established, Helga will only feel stronger about that than I do. You're afraid of having to make this kind of decision. Maybe it's because there will be pain. Or maybe it's because you're afraid of picking the wrong girl, and having to live with the mistake forever. But you're never going to find a solution unless you start being honest with yourself."

"What about you?" Arnold asked, missing only a beat after Rhonda's accusation.

"What about me?" Rhonda returned the question, confused.

"Why do you love me?"

Rhonda told him.

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Author's Notes

You know, as much as I wanted to continue that Arnold/Rhonda scene, I felt that that was a great note to end on. It helps to bring people back for next week. I hope.

Anyway, welcome to a little thing I like to call _Increase Ratings Week_. I was actually feeling very discouraged about the story this week. It didn't have to do with negative reviews, or anything anyone said. It was just a case of me feeling dreadfully uninspired. I did actually start writing about Helga downstairs at breakfast, but trust me when I say that my heart wasn't in it. I haven't decided yet if I'm even going to use that footage or not, but I'll hang onto it. A writer never knows when such things will come in handy.

At any rate, next week, if I can get my crap together, I'm supposed to do dinner with the Patakis. Man, just think about that for a second. It has train wreck written all over it, doesn't it? But I'd say it's high time I put some of those characters into the story, especially Olga, who deserves some action beyond a flashback. I don't know, maybe it's just a guy thing, but I've always liked Olga. I also like it how she drives Helga crazy, heh heh heh.

So anyway, I really don't have any long-winded speeches in me this week. I think I burnt myself off for awhile with those really long notes I left last time. I guess I could use the extra space to answer a few more reviews. See what leaving one gets you? Personal responses!

DarthRoden, I hope I've managed to cut through the suspense for you. And maybe create a lot more. How was this?

To Pam-Pam-Kitten, where do I start? Working with Rhonda is one of the things that really keeps me excited about this story. I've already done Helga, and I'm still doing a lot with her, but she's not the only woman on the show, and I don't think she was ever fleshed out enough. I've tried to make her out to be more than the stereotypical rich bitch. She isn't dead behind the eyes. She's real, she's human, and she's here. I also think she's fascinating, and so much different than Helga. With Rhonda, I get to write about a girl who has it. She's sexy and she knows it, and she's not afraid to use it when she needs to. But that isn't all she is. And I can assure you that, like Helga, Rhonda is emotionally delicate. It's nice to see that she's appreciated by a few people. I'll add you to the list.

Moving on to Helga, I'm heavy into the belief that Helga creates most of her own problems. I am not, however, out to torture her. One can't help but feel a bond with a girl who has so much emotion roiling through her. Even though I'm using Rhonda a lot, Helga is still the female lead, and I intend to do a lot of stuff with her, show her in different ways. I know I've made her nutty, but that's how I feel she is. I'm glad you feel the same way. Boy, you and I are going to get along fine, aren't we?

Good catch from the trailer. And yes, that line is still in the story. So does this mean that Arnold will end up with Helga? It's pretty inconclusive. After all, this story does take place in flashback! But don't worry, I'll give you a big clue who Arnold ends up with. Her first name ends in the letter "a."

The J.A.M., what's up, holder of the award for most consecutive reviews? And they're getting longer too! Is Helga sane or not? Well, I think it's safe to assume that she is. Truly crazy people never question their sanity, they always assume that they're rational, and that the rest of the world is insane. No, Arnold isn't smart enough to reach the Patakis first. As the series establishes quite well, he's rather dense about matters of love. Or whatever it is he and Helga have.

No reaction from Arnold period about her stripping in front of him. I guess some things are just too strange for words.

I referenced the Nadine section on Don Del Grande's HA site and found Nadine with her parents. I saw she was of mixed heritage, which explains her dark complexion, but it's obvious she isn't fully African American like Gerald and his family. Also, the way she styles her hair doesn't seem very European to me, so I figure she's got to be dying it. I find it hard to believe she's a natural blonde, the more I think on it. But I have a soft spot for Nadine, and I wanted to do something special for her last time. So there it was.

Arnold will talk about how Rhonda kisses later. Oh yes, he will! As for Rhonda's epiphany, well, since nearly everyone seems to dislike her, I tried to make her seem a little more human. Plus, I feel this is what she really wants, just like Helga. They are each strong, powerful women, and would want him fully.

I've never met anyone from Scandinavia, so I can't speak for the average body type from their region of the world. But I still stand by what I said about Helga last week. I would explain it further, but I'd rather wait until the end of the story. I'll consider doing it in private, if I ever catch you on AIM again.

Acosta pèrez josè Ramiro, I worked hard on the Helga stuff, as I always do. I was trying to show yet another side of her character, hopefully, I succeeded. I also wanted to illustrate that Helga understands what true love really is. Another person who likes my Rhonda? All right, maybe this story will have a better legacy than I originally thought. I guess we'll have to wait and see. And thanks for like the Nadine stuff. Incidentally, I'll put Sid and Nadine back in soon. But I was way to lazy to do a scene with them and a Ginger column, and I gave Ginger a good two weeks off, I figured it was time for her to say something.

Wow, there were more of these to get to than I thought. Oh well. Roxynomekop, you're up next! I've missed your reviews, but I'm glad you're back. I hope you decide to stick around. Don't worry, I promise to tell a very full story before revealing which woman Arnold will be keeping around. I can't just reveal who it is, I have to back the decision up meticulously, and explain why he is choosing one girl over the other. These girls have real emotions to me, even if they are not technically real people, and I'm not just going to up and crush one of them without providing a thorough explanation first.

Rachel West, if it's painful for you to read these Arnold/Helga interactions, think how painful it is for me to write them! Helga is such a complex character, and I always want to do her justice. And let's face it, she's so screwed up. But I do enjoy writing for her, painful as it may be at times. That which does not kill us, will only make us stronger. Or something. The story of Arnold and Helga is long, and I'm just now going to be starting with the meat of it. I don't know what the longest running fic in this fandom is right now, but I fear this may be it by the time I'm done! I hope people will still be reading by then. And you're right, Rhonda is drawing Arnold in. She dated him for a long time, she knows what she's doing. She is not a villain (although I'm sure some would disagree with me on that sentiment), but don't expect her to sit idly by and not fight for the man she loves. Lloyds do not go gently into that good night. Until we know how things will go down in the end, I hope the suspense excites you without killing you. And thanks for agreeing with me about Helga. Looks like I'm not alone on this one, that's a good feeling.

And lastly, but certainly not leastly, the one and only ahhelga. So, you're raising an Arnold/Rhonda banner? Wow, I'm impressed! I get the feeling that's kind of dangerous around here! But I'll have you know that I stand behind you 100 percent. . .and 100 feet away! But seriously, it's nice to know that you'll always love my story. It's responses I get from people like you that keep me dedicated to it. Thanks for praising my character development, because I really work on that more than I do anything else. I just hope that the Rhonda I've written isn't destined to become the most celebrated and the most hated. And you're right, you are throwing me a lot of compliments. If you can't think of anything else to say, you must really like my story! Nothing wrong with that!

Uh oh, know look what you guys and gals have done. I'm out of reviews! See, now you'll have to write more so I can respond to them. Devious, aren't I? Of course, there are other ways to get in touch with me. If writing reviews is against your religion or something, than just send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

10/03/05

5:19AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	17. Hors Douvres

"Hors Douvres"

It was a wet night, one of those horrible times when the air is wet. It's not quite raining, just water droplets flying around to splash you in the face, countless puddles to splash around your shoes. Arnold really didn't know why he and Helga had decided to walk to her parent's home. Apparantly Helga was regretting the decision as well. She tightened her faded purple jacket around her form, trying to keep the dampness out of her bones.

"We should've borrowed the Packard." Arnold vocalized his thoughts, prompting a scowl out of his wife.

"Hey, you could've asked for it this afternoon, instead of running out to get caught up with Geraldo."

"Gerald is my best friend. If anyone deserved to find out about this marriage thing properly, it's him."

"Oh, so my own family doesn't even count!" Helga glowered, steeling her voice. "Thanks a ton, Arnoldo."

"Oh come on, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"For your sake, I really hope that Bob doesn't hate you too much." Helga grinned, a smile that Arnold found entirely too wide.

"You say that as though there's no chance he'll end up liking me." Arnold started.

"Yeah, well, he's not exactly Mr. Sunshine on his best days. And you took his only remaining daughter away from him without even asking for his opinion or approval!"

"I _what_!" Arnold protested. "That's not how it happened at all, Helga, and you know it!"

"Maybe so." Helga widened her smile even further. "But that's not the way he's going to see it."

"This is a setup, isn't it?" Arnold stopped walking.

"I've gotta admit, Arnold, you're really cute when you squirm." Helga's grin widened even further.

"Helga!"

"Oh come on! Do you really think I would do something like that to you?"

"Yes!" Arnold let her know what he thought in no uncertain terms.

Helga pursed her lips, taking in what he had just said to her. "That hurts, Arnold."

"I'm sorry?" He asked, less of an apology and more of a befuddlement.

"I said that hurts! I had hoped by now you would know that I would never throw you to the wolves."

"Pardon me for being skeptical, but it's hard not to think of a young girl in a pink dress that used to take great pleasure in making sure I was as miserable as I could be at any given time."

"That's different." Helga insisted. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"Even back then, I was the only one who was allowed to do that kind of thing to you. No one else was allowed to mess with you, or they answered to me!"

"What did you ever save me from?"

"I stopped that trampy Autumn girl from making a fool of you that one summer we ended up staying in the same beach house together."

"Oh, yeah. . .sorry, guess I kind of forgot."

"You _forgot_!" Helga yelled. "I can't believe you!"

"I'm sorry! It's just. . .been a lot of years, you know!"

"Maybe for you. . ." Helga trailed off, sighing.

"Thanks for looking out for me back then."

"Yeah, well, like I said, she was just using you. And I'm the only one who got to give you a hard time."

"So what's your dad going to do to me?" Arnold asked.

"Yell a lot. But try not to take it too personally. He yells at everybody. Besides, I won't let him get away with trying to tear you down. You're my husband, and I had my reasons for choosing you. Too damn bad if he doesn't like it."

"This is going to be a killer night, isn't it?"

"I'd rather have three root canals. Consecutively." Helga nodded as they arrived at her front door. She knocked three times, tapping her foot impatiently. She fortunately didn't have to wait very long, as a young blonde woman soon opened the door, welcoming them in.

"Baby sister!" Olga squealed, lifting Helga off her feet and squeezing. Helga gasped for air when he sibling finally released her. "And you must the Arnold we heard so much about this afternoon. "You're even more handsome than I pictured." Olga blushed slightly, extending her hand. Arnold took it, and realizing what he was supposed to do, left her a kiss before letting her go, which prompted a very disapproving scowl from Helga. "We've been expecting you. Mummy and Daddy and Geoffrey are simply dying to meet you!"

"Me?" Arnold asked, his cheeks glowing. "But, really, I'm nothing special."

"Oh, now I know that isn't true!" Olga insisted. "If my beautiful baby sister felt so strongly about you that she married you, then I know there can't be a more brilliant fish left in the sea."

"Olga. . ." Helga moaned, knowing this was going to be a night from hell. Straight out of a sitcom, only worse. Funny how those things are only funny when they're not happening to you.

"Come along, I want to introduce you to the family." Olga smiled, leading them inward. The three of them walked into the living room, where Bob was watching television. Geoffrey sat in a chair on the other side of the room. "Daddy, Geoffrey. Arnold and Helga are here."

"Well hello!" Geoffrey immediately brightened up, getting out of his chair to shake Arnold's hand. He was a man who appeared to be Olga's equal in every way. He matched her height almost perfectly, and he sported a full head of blonde hair. Suddenly, it was no secret why the two of them had had such a large wedding eighteen months ago. Olga Pataki was considered by many to be de facto royalty. There were few people in Hillwood who hadn't at the very least heard of her. And while Geoffrey was from the Midwest himself, he looked exactly like the man Olga should marry if you asked a child to draw her a husband with some crayons. There was a dynamic between husband and wife that was almost electric, one had to wonder if they could actually read each other's minds, the looks they exchanged were sheer delight. It set a stark contrast from the other married couples that were present. Bob was still largely engrossed by the TV, and his wife Miriam was half-asleep on the sofa, she hadn't even acknowledged the presence of anyone else yet. Arnold himself seemed very apprehensive about this entire evening, but Geoffrey's enthusiasm was infectious. His dynamic with Helga, on the other hand, remained antagonistic at best. There was a very indifferent vibe she gave off in regard to Olga's husband. Apparently he wasn't a person she either liked or disliked, he was simply tolerated and that was enough for her.

"So this is the famous Arnold we've heard so much about. My, you're right, he's definitely a keeper. I like a man with a good handshake." Geoffrey smiled as Arnold returned the custom.

"Um, thanks. . .Geoffrey." Arnold smiled at the pleasant man who was Olga's husband.

"I'm told that all through school, you used to try and help your peers with their problems. That's brilliant. The world needs more people like you, if you ask me."

"I don't know about that, really, I'm just a regular guy trying to get through life like everyone else. I never claimed to be anything more. Stuff just has this tendency to, well, fall in my lap, I guess." Arnold did his best to explain. "I see something bad happening, or someone who needs help, and no one willing to do anything about it. So either I have to do something, or just let the situation continue. And I'm just not willing to do nothing. It's not the kind of person I am."

"Well, you certainly sound like a modern day hero to me, Arnold." Geoffrey smiled brightly. "I think you'll fit into this family perfectly. Maybe you can come on a mission trip with Olga and myself sometime. You can come as well, Helga, if you like."

"Oh yeah, that sounds great." Helga mustered as much fake enthusiasm as she could.

"Helga. . ." Arnold shot his wife a look.

"What?"

Arnold shook his head. "Never mind."

"Suits me." Helga shrugged. "So dad, are you going to say hello to us, or should I just shut the TV off so we can get your full attention?"

"Huh?" Bob responded, distracted from his game show. "Oh, right. Sorry Olga."

Helga held her palm up to her forehead and brought her gaze heavenward, as though praying for strength. "I'm Helga, dad."

"Right. Helga." Bob reluctantly switched off the television set and, with some effort, pulled himself out of his recliner. "So, you must be Alfred, right?" Bob inclined his head at the only person standing in his living room that he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting. That he could remember, at least.

Arnold stepped up to Helga's father, not wanting to appear rude. "Actually, it's Arnold, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pataki."

"Arnold, right. That sounds familiar for some reason. Have we met before?"

"Well, actually, I--" Arnold was promptly interrupted by Helga, who was standing directly behind and to the right of her father, making various frantic gestures with her arms. "We've, uh, never met. But I've heard a lot about you from Helga." Arnold darted an eye in Helga's direction, and she gave him a reassuring thumbs up.

"I'll bet you have!" Bob replied enthusiastically. "You don't get to be the king of the wireless empire without everyone knowing who you are, kid. I'm number one in this district, and I didn't get there without being afraid to lean on the competition. Heh, I remember one time at this high school, there was this protest group led by some namby-pamby junior varsity type who was trying to organize some kind of ban on my product, and I-"

Helga quickly jumped to her beloveds rescue before this conversation became entirely too uncomfortable for all parties involved. "Come on, Dad. Arnold didn't come here to hear you're life story. This was supposed to be so that _you _could get to know _him _better, remember."

Bob frowned for a moment, then broke out in a laugh. "I guess you're right, Olga. Come on, let's go to the dining room, and the boy can tell me all about himself. I'm rather interested in learning about this boy who enthralled you so much you didn't even wait for a proper wedding."

"Daddy, you promised us you would be nice to Arnold and Helga." Olga frowned. Helga was working her wrists methodically, she looked as though she needed something to squeeze.

"Alright, alright. Geez, it's like I'm a prisoner in my own house." Bob said in a tight-lipped manner. "Come on, let's get some grub. Hey Miriam!" He yelled to wake his wife up from her post-lunch, pre-dinner nap. "Bring us some Yahoo sodas for the table!"

Miriam sat up straight, yawning. "Dinner?" She asked.

"The sodas, Miriam. Go get some sodas for us!"

Miriam yawned again and began trudging her way through the dining room into the kitchen. "Sure thing, B."

The rest of them adjourned to the dining room table, but Helga grabbed Arnold by the arm as he passed, pulling him into a corner. "Helga, what are you doing!" Arnold asked excitedly, but she pressed a finger to his lips, motioning for him to be quiet.

"Be careful in there." Helga warned him. "Bob would relish a chance to pick you apart. You didn't get suggested to the kind of rigorous approval process like Geoffrey there did."

"Approval process?" Arnold looked very confused.

"Bob likes to think he can control us. Or more specifically, he actually thinks that if he tells us not to marry someone, then we won't. I spared us both that humiliation."

"Wait a minute. Did you just admit that this whole marriage thing was-"

Helga stamped on Arnold's foot to bring him back to the discussion at hand. "Not now! Look, all I'm saying is that I rooked Bob out of his chance to say no, so he's just waiting to come down on you like a ton of bricks. Be careful in there. If you feel me kick you, that's your cue to lie like crazy."

"You want me to lie to your father?"

"I want you to live through the night." Helga pleaded, causing Arnold to roll his eyes. "Look, Bob is the king of the egotists, all right? All you have to do is make him feel like he's the most important person in the room. And when he asks you what your ambitions are, just tell him your goal is to someday own a chain of video stores or something. Anything that's about making gobs of money and taking out the competition excites him to no end, believe me."

"What if he starts asking me questions I can't answer?"

"I'll cover for you. Trust me, if there's one thing I know, it's Bob." Helga scowled.

"Okay, I trust you."

"It's about time." Helga lifted her lips into a smile for him. "We'll knock him dead out there." Arnold turned to follow the others into the dining room, but Helga didn't release her hold on him.

"What?"

"Just one more thing." Helga darted her eyes back and forth to make sure they couldn't be seen, then gave him a peck on the cheek. "If we don't make it through this night. . .I love you, okay?" Helga pulled Arnold into the dining room before he could even respond, his eyes still wide in disbelief. Living through this evening suddenly seemed a lot more difficult.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_Have you ever had one of those moments in life when you're doing something that you know is stupid, but at the time it just feels so good that you can't possibly see past it? Come on, don't be shy. Everyone has at least one. Maybe it was ripping into an authority figure who really ticked you off. Maybe it was giving the finger to someone who cuts you off in traffic. Maybe it's just getting into an argument with someone at the grocery store about who gets the last box of cereal that's on sale for half price. My point is, we all do dumb things. _

_Throughout my life, I've found myself taking stands on a variety of different issues for a variety of different reasons. And most of the time, it wasn't very pleasant. These are the kinds of stands that usually put you on the outs with people like your teachers, your boss, your friends, or worst of all, someone higher up in the social pecking order than yourself. And suddenly you find yourself standing all alone, and you're wondering what on earth made you do this in the first place. Principles? Loyalty? Just a general feeling that someone has to do something, no matter how ineffectual it may be? Former president Jimmy Carter once gave a speech about how the country was under a "great malaise." Not exactly inspiring words from a man who was supposed to be the leader of the free world. But there are days when I think I can understand what he was talking about. These are the days when I wake up in the morning and I feel like I'm broken. I can't exactly put my finger on it, but something is wrong with me. When I sit in front of my laptop, staring at a blank page and wondering what the heck I'm supposed to fill it with. When I start my car and pull out of the driveway, and then I suddenly realize I can't even remember where I'm supposed to go. You know what I'm talking about._

_I sometimes have to wonder if I'm schizophrenic. I'm one of those people who can start out feeling like I know exactly who I am and where I'm going in life, and then by the end of the day I don't even know who I am anymore. Everything feels like an uphill battle. I have this terrible habit of second-guessing myself. It's really done a lot to complicate my relationships with my friends and significant others over the years. How bad is it when you're not even sure if you can trust your own heart? Sometimes I worry that I'm becoming an absolute mess._

_It occurs to me that even after all this time, I'm not really sure what I'm doing with my life. I'm here. I'm alive. I'm writing. I eat, drink, sleep, go to the bathroom, dress myself, shower, exist. People come up to me in the supermarket and say hello. Okay. Maybe at the checkout, someone in front of me recognizes who I am and offers to let me go in front of them. Then what am I supposed to do? I can accept the offer, but then I have to ignore the looks from everyone around me, people who don't know me from Eve and wonder what makes me think I'm so special. Or I can decline, but then I look ungrateful and anti-social, and I have to endure the strange looks anyway. Point, counterpoint. People in this town who know who I am, who watched me grow up, have come to see me as some kind of answer girl. Like I've been enlightened. People that taught me in seventh and eighth grade put me up on some kind of pedestal, and I understand that. I'm validation that they managed to pass something along to me. That the whole education process works, that it isn't just a waste of everyone's time and energy. And that's okay. I understand how being a teacher is a thankless job. But in my fan mail, people ask me all these complex, personal questions about what they should do in their lives. And I'm flattered that you've thought of me, really. But I'm not Ann Landers. I wish I could help everyone solve their problems. I'd love to save the world. But in case you hadn't noticed, I haven't fixed most of my own yet. I mean, let's face it people, I'm a mess! But I keep trying anyway. What else am I supposed to do? I've never been much for quitting. Even when it's so much easier than trying to go on. I've come close a few times, but someone always comes along to pick me up. I'm lucky to have a good support group. Not to mention the greatest guy in the world, even though I have a habit of taking him for granted sometimes. I guess that's bound to happen when you've known the same person for so long. It's really kind of easy to do if you aren't careful. But there it is anyway._

_I turn on my TV and flip through the channels. It's always a riot when you get to cable news. Men and women in fancy outfits, screaming at each other about how brilliant or how stupid Bush is, depending on which side of the aisle they happen to fight for. Okay, ordinarily, I could get that. Except maybe for the fact that they've been yelling about it for nearly six years now, and I sincerely doubt that any of them have managed to change anyone's opinion one way or the other. Don't these people have anything better to do with their lives? Anyone into politics will drone on endlessly about how necessary or how evil the war in Iraq is, but it's getting hard to find someone who will actually talk about how we've turned our own society into this polarized battlefield. This place where politicians declare that you're either for them or against them. Can't get the masses to vote the way you want them to? Let some radical liberal or conservative judge interpret law where there is none. Does any of it really matter, anyway? Any major political entity is just beholden to a bunch of special interest groups. Sure, you can always vote for an independent party, but that's about as useful as holding up a piece of paper to deflect a bullet. But in spite of all that, the system still works. Sure, we all like to talk big and noble, but the fact of the matter is that when the everyday person walks into a voting booth, they are going to vote for the candidate who will do the most for them personally. And I guess that's how it should be. You're supposed to be voting for someone who represents your own interests, right?_

_Is it just me, or did I manage to get way off on different tangents again. This happens to me whenever I'm feeling like this. I'd like to summarize my point here, but I'm not sure if I really have one this week. Maybe this is all just food for thought. Like I said, my life is a mess. But I'll put the pieces back together somehow. Trust me, I always do. But then, I get by with a little help for my friends. Whoa, Beatlespeak. Now I'm making myself sound as old as my mother! Maybe that's my cue to call it quits for the day._

_Nine days, people. Nine days of unending rain. I don't think I've seen this much rain in my life. When you hit day five, all those ark jokes suddenly seem a lot less funny. By day nine, you've become downright depressed. I think maybe that's what's causing all of this. It certainly hasn't helped my judgment at all this week. But hey, I do have an inflatable pool chair. If we get washed away, at least I know I can go in style. But seriously, if anything like that does happen, I hope this laptop will be safe. I'd hate to lose all my random thoughts and work. Bringing them to you each week is what helps keep me going in this mixed up world._

_Okay, guess it's back to work. I'm supposed to be helping Darren with the leaks in the roof. If you're not too busy, feel free to come by with some tools. Or at least a bucket to catch the water in. I'll be sure to put the kettle on. _

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"Aha, so the plot thickens." Rhonda smirked, crossing her legs in a manner Arnold found very hard to ignore.

"Still jealous?" Arnold asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not really sure. I've never met most of these people. It's been years since I've had any dealing with Helga's father. And I'm afraid I don't know much about her sister, either."

"Olga? She was a student teacher for our class back in the fourth grade. It didn't last for very long."

"Oh, right!" Rhonda suddenly remembered. "Tall, perky blonde, right?"

"Yeah, that pretty well sums her up." Arnold nodded.

"You're nervous."

"I am not." Arnold protested, which caused Rhonda's grin to widen.

"Arnold, you're practically shaking!"

"It's not nervousness!" Arnold reiterated. "I just, ugh, I get so angry whenever I think about this!"

"Arnold, calm down! What did Helga do to you to get you so upset?"

"Not Helga. Her father. I've never seen a family caught between such open. . .hostility."

"Hostility? Well, I certainly wouldn't nominate the Patakis to pose for one of those "focus on the family" posters. In fact, they're more like the type who those posters should be aimed at. But hostility? If memory serves, most of the relationships in that boarding house of yours are centered around antagonism." Rhonda pointed out.

Arnold disagreed. "Antagonism, not hostility. Those are two separate things."

"One breeds the other."

"Not necessarily. Isn't it true that we always hurt the ones we live? That it's not uncommon for a young boy or girl to pick on someone they really like?" Arnold protested.

"Maybe in elementary school. I can't say that I ever really had that problem."

"I'll bet you didn't." Arnold rolled his eyes.

"Let's not change the subject. This is about you and your issues with Helga. This is where it started, isn't it? This is where you unknowingly opened a soft spot for her inside."

Arnold started, feeling a cold spot in his chest. "No, it couldn't be." He shook his head in disbelief. "It couldn't have happened that quickly."

"Oh no?" Rhonda smirked, knowing she had him right where she wanted him. "Didn't you fall for me just as quickly?"

"There's no comparison! Come on, Rhonda, you and I may not have been a perfect couple on paper, but Helga and I look like a match made in hell. This isn't the same! We needed each other!"

"I still do. . ." Rhonda reminded him. "But regardless of that, it looks like she needed you as well. And whether or not you meant to at the time. . .you responded to her. You sympathized with what she was going through. You wanted to be with her."

"I wanted to help her. But it wasn't because I had feelings for her! I'm telling you, those didn't come until much, much later."

"You're lying to yourself, Arnold. You must learn to be more open about these things. You've always been connected to Helga."

"What, because I've known her since I was a kid?"

"Tell me, Arnold. And be honest. Can you recall the exact moment that you fell in love with Helga Pataki?"

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Author's Notes

Nine days of rain, people. Connecticut had nine days of rain! Consecutively! Hard rain! Those all day soaking rains that make you never want to get out of bed. When the sun finally came out yesterday, I didn't know what to do. "It burns, it burns!" Seriously though, thank goodness the weather has finally begun to turn pleasant again. I thought my complexion was starting to get pasty. Plus we all ran out of ark jokes a long time ago!

Now, on to the actual notes. Let me start out by saying that this chapter as you're seeing it isn't exactly what I had planned when I'd started. But I've had a ton of stuff going down in my life lately, which is why I eventually decided to take last week off. In the past week, I was also fired from a job I no longer desired to work at anyway. This means I'm busy in a search for a new job, however, my nights are free to write, so I didn't have too much trouble bringing you a new chapter this week. I did, however, find myself distracted quite a bit while writing this, so I apologize if the quality is a little less than you were hoping for, especially after my being gone for a whole week. Rest assured I did put a lot of myself into this thing.

Anyway, my original plans called for me to do the entire dinner sequence as one chapter, but I then found that I just couldn't concentrate on that plot for an entire chapter. I've got a lot of roiling emotions going through me right now, having so recently lost my job. So as you can imagine, I was desperate to write another Ginger column. I didn't want to make it so much about me as much as I just wanted to cut loose and say a whole bunch of different stuff. I'm pleased with what I did for her, as I felt I didn't give into my emotions and put words into her mouth that she would never say.

I don't know where life will be taking me over the next few weeks. I've already implemented some noticeable changes. Mostly I want to be happy with myself again, and I've got to admit that not working for that evil company anymore is definitely contributing to my happiness. Paycheck or no, the mere thought of never having to go there again is simply orgasmic.

The good news is, I don't anticipate any of this having a negative impact on my story. I think that writing will actually be easier now, I'll see how things go when I've found new employment. I also have some time to look after other things I've been neglecting, maybe spend some nights playing a few video games and doing some reading as well. Of course, I'll be spending my days looking for a new job, but hey, wouldn't you?

I guess I don't have too much more to say, so I'll try to respond to some of these reviews.

Ahhelga, you felt that Rhonda came off as Helga-ish? Well, I guess everyone has their "Helga moments" in life, so Rhonda is entitled to hers. And yes, I know, I'm very cruel for putting something so teasing into the story. Will it make you feel any better if I promise to include the real thing sometime?

Hey, J.A.M., you weren't the first reviewer this time. How disappointing! Is your devotion lacking? Nah, I'm just messing with you. Anyway, I feel that passion is a far greater aphrodisiac than lust, so I tried to convey that in the steamy scene last week. As for Arnold quoting the biblical definition of love, I guess I couldn't help it. It almost felt like that scene in "A Charlie Brown Christmas" where Linus quotes from the Bible. Maybe I was just on a roll or something. The ability to switch to a completely different line of thinking is part of what makes writing a talent that not everyone has. I certainly would like to be a better artist! "Worser" is a Shakespearean word. See the scene from Hamlet where he tells Queen Gertrude "O, throw away the worser part of it (her heart), And live the purer with the other half." Act 3, Scene 4 And of course, Rhonda will not share Arnold with anyone. Both Rhonda and Helga feel that they alone have the right to possess his heart. Where Helga has gone, and why, will be revealed in due time, and the discussion Arnold and Rhonda are about to have should shed some light in where Arnold's loyalties currently lie.

Acosta perez jose Ramiro, I'm glad that you seem to be liking everything that you see so far. A lot of me goes into every chapter of this story, including some of my worser parts. It's all part of my ongoing effort to make the entire experience as human as possible. I've always felt that if I were going to take the time to do something like this, I need to do it right. The characters, as much as the fans, deserve that justice.

Felicia, I'm sorry that the last chapter wasn't long enough for you. It was a good 5000 words or so. About 3900 before I got to the notes. 4000 is usually my target, which I surpassed before getting to the notes. I hope this sated your thirst. I'll try to have more soon.

Rachel, I think I'm going to have to e-mail you, because if I respond to your review in detail here, it would take entirely too long. I too, however, was laughing maniacally when I provided that "hint" last time, as Lila was actually the first name that came to mind. It also doesn't rule out poor Sheena. Also, I'm glad to see that you've come to enjoy the Ginger columns. I have to put a lot of thought into those sometimes, because I want them to have a certain feel. It's also been quite awhile since I've had time to watch an episode of Ginger, so I think I'm going to make the time to see a few on tape this week. I wouldn't want to lose my grip on her character. Eh, there's tons more I'd like to say. I'll e-mail, okay? Promise!

Laurel, just by the first sentence in your review, I'm going to say that the last chapter was a rousing success. I'll admit, I needed something of a break, and it just felt like it was high time for some hot Arnold/Helga action. If for no other reason than to make sure my audience was still paying attention! I'm encouraged that you're trying to stay partial to Rhonda. She's a pivotal character in the story, and whether she's well-liked or not, I can promise you that she does truly love Arnold, and her motivations are mostly pure. While I can't deny that she's out to get Arnold for herself, she has not in any way tried to make Arnold forget Helga. She is in fact forcing Arnold to confront his feelings for Helga head on. Because if Rhonda can't have all of him, she doesn't want any of him. Hang in there, the plot will thicken, I assure you.

Roxynomekop is back, and there was much rejoicing. I'm glad to hear that all your favorite authors have been updating lately. At least you won't be running short on things to read. Now, I'm sorry to crush your spirits, but the hot and heavy stuff from last time was just Arnold getting Rhonda's attention. It didn't really happen. I know, I know, I'm terrible. I admit it. But admit it, you loved it. And now you now you can go back and read it again and again!

Rhfntc, nice to have you on board as a new reviewer. Your comments really made me feel great, because you observed exactly what I was trying to convey. Arnold hasn't changed very much since he was in the fourth grade, and neither has Helga. I didn't want to ruin that dynamic that they had, although I did have to let go of the tormenting Arnold stuff Helga used to do. She started to reach an age where people would have noticed too much. I have tried to keep everyone in character as best I could. I'm sorry if I disappointed you with no update last week. I should be back on track now.

And Jae B, I think it's awesome that you're here. Thanks for checking out my little story. I'm flattered that you think so highly of it, but you don't do such bad work yourself. Don't despair! I hope that you'll read more when you can.

I guess that about covers it for the last batch of reviews. So lastly, if you're a fan of my works, I'd like to encourage you to do a search on this site for the author Didjargo. He's a good friend of mine, and I'm co-authoring his Weekenders fic "Time Capsule." I'm also peripherally helping with his Teen Titans story "In Purgatory's Shadow." Both are excellent reads.

I'd say more, but man, I need a little break from all this typing. In fact, I think I need to go to 7-11 and buy some ice cream. Yeah, ice cream is good. And invigorating. I'll see you all here next time. Until then, please send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

10/17/05

4:36AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	18. Recipe For Disaster

"Recipe For Disaster"

Olga came in from the kitchen carrying a simmering dish between her gloved mitts, which cause everyone's eyes to pop as she set it in the center of the table and removed the glass lid. "These are mummy's specialty stuffed peppers. I convinced her to make them once I heard that we'd be meeting a new member of our family tonight." Olga's eyes teared up, and she looked directly at Helga. "I'm sorry, sister, I'm just so happy! I've always dreamed that you would find this kind of happiness! I only wish you had told me beforehand! I so wanted to be there."

Arnold's eyes were wide and transfixed. He had no idea how to respond to Olga's comments. He didn't dare tell the truth. He still hadn't figured out what the complete truth was, yet. But Olga's devotion to her sister was profound. Helga did her best to push them past the moment. "It's okay, Olga. Everything happened really fast for us. I didn't mean to leave any of you out. I know that most of you are upset with me for not giving you the chance to be at my wedding. But I wanted to let you know that there was nothing personal about it. I guess we were just a little. . .irresponsible. But you're all my family. That's why I came here. To tell you the truth. And to invite you all to be a part of my new life with Arnold here." Helga gave him a loving gaze, trying to give her speech the perfect effect. Arnold felt him give her a kick when he didn't say anything after a moment.

"Right!" Arnold started, prompted by Helga's foot impacting his shin. "I know that I'm part of your family now, and I wanted both of us to start acting like that. I'm sorry about the whole wedding thing, Mr. Pataki, Mrs. Pataki. I know that must have, well, disappointed you."

Miriam uncorked the bottle of wine and poured herself a tall glass, choosing not to say much. "Well, you know, weddings can be such a hassle these days and. . ." Miriam took a sip of her wine and trailed off, having either finished what she was saying or having lost her train of thought. Arnold got the distinct impression it was often difficult to tell which.

"You're darn right it was a disappointment!" Bob bellowed. "Think of the lost opportunities! Why, with that reception alone, I could've made it a huge platform for my business. The headlines would've been great! I'll bet I could've gotten half the city to turn out for that shindig!"

"Daddy. . ." Olga protested.

"Well it's true."

Arnold stood up, trying to head off a potential conflict. He felt Helga kick him twice underneath the table, but her ignored her, which caused his wife to fume. "You're right, Mr. Pataki. Helga and I didn't consider any of your feelings when we decided to get married. I wish we could make that up to you, but we can't unmarry ourselves. It's done. And I want to apologize to you personally for not discussing the matter with you beforehand. It was discourteous of me. But please try not to be too angry with us. We know we were wrong, and we want to include you and the rest of the family on any further decisions we might make that would affect you as well."

Arnold looked around the table after he finished talking. Olga was beaming, Geoffrey smiled at him, Miriam wore a knowing smile, and Bob looked as though he no longer knew what to make of this teenage boy who had swooped in and married his daughter without even having the decency to make his intentions known beforehand. Helga looked shocked, as though she couldn't believe that Arnold had not only confronted her father so handily, but he had gotten away with it!

"They're just teenagers, B." Miriam placed her hand on Bob's arm. "We were teenagers once too, you know."

"Yeah, well, we didn't run off and elope." Bob pouted.

"Well I think they're very brave to come here and own up to what they did. They could've just run away and tried to make it on their own." Olga defended the young couple.

"So, Arnold." Bob took a large bite out of his entrée before continuing. "Now that you've married into our family, what are your plans for the future, hmm?"

"Well, ah, this all came about rather quickly you see." Arnold explained. "I was planning to go to college this fall." Helga gave him a sizeable kick, which was much harder than necessary. "But now that we're married and all, I thought I could get a job and help bring some money in. That way Helga can pursue her education first."

"So, thinking ahead, I see. Good, good. Because I'm not going to let anything jeopardize my daughter's education."

"You never seemed to care much before." Helga muttered under her breath, not daring to express the sentiment at a volume Bob could overhear. Typical, he was perfectly comfortable with using her as a cats' paw. Now that he had found a use for her, she was his darling little girl.

Arnold folded his hands, doing his best to look sincere. "I'd just like to be able to provide for Helga the same way you have, Mr. Pataki. I'm not afraid of doing some hard work if that's what it takes." This comment elicited a different kind of reaction out of Helga. She brushed her leg up against his to show that he had just hit a double. It was a surprising sensation, the feeling of fresh nylon against his pant leg was something he hadn't felt in a long time. The idea of Helga wearing pantyhose was entirely foreign to him, but then, she wasn't someone he had paid more than cursory attention to after junior high school. It was reasonable to assume that she had expanded her wardrobe beyond simplistic dresses and tomboyish outfits. Arnold couldn't help but smile at that. Kowtowing to Big Bob Pataki wasn't so hard after all.

"So, you're not afraid of work, huh. Good. Because you'll be doing a lot of it to keep Helga at her current comfort level." Bob expressed. "But at least you're not one of those namby-pamby types. Hard work is good for a man. It builds character, makes you strong."

"Arnold and I are doing fine, dad." Helga tried to rein her father in. "We can take care of ourselves, you know."

"Oh really? And where are you going to live? In that run down old boarding house?" Bob scoffed.

"No, we're just staying there now so we could break the news to Arnold's grandparents. We already have a place of our own. We're going to move in on the weekend." Helga buried her fork into a large slice of pepper for emphasis.

This news was a shock to both Bob and Arnold, and Helga shot her husband a look that told him to follow her lead. "Uh, that's right." Arnold confirmed. "We want to be independent, you see."

"Kids these days." Bob rolled his eyes. "So what are your ambitions, anyway?"

"Well, I've always liked movies, Mr. Pataki." Arnold explained. "So I thought that maybe I could, well, open my own chain of movie rental stores. "I've been to the places in this town, and I know I could do it better than them."

"Aha! Now see, that's what I was waiting for! Drive, ambition! I don't want any daughter of mine marrying some nobody. We're all Patakis here. That name carries a lot of responsibility. You married into the family, so you have that responsibility now as well." Bob pointed his fork at Arnold.

"I understand, Mr. Pataki. And I'll do my best to make our family proud."

"We'll see, kid, we'll see. You know, after the stunt you pulled, I have half a mind to boot your behind out of here and do everything in my power to get this screwy marriage annulled."

Olga was already losing her composure. "Daddy!" She sobbed. "How can you be so heartless! Don't you have any respect for love?"

"Oh, B, will you knock off the Big Bad Wolf act already." Miriam moaned, pouring herself another glass of wine.

"That's not going to happen, _dad_." Helga overemphasized the title, struggling not to demean him by using her father's given name. In Helga's opinion, Bob was very rarely entitled to the title of father, but as she had learned time and again with family, there were times in your life when you needed them. Helga decided then and there that needing people was an absolute bitch.

"Hey, hey! You watch your tone little lady!" Bob wagged his finger at Helga, and she retorted with her best scowl, almost daring him to make a scene. Arnold felt himself slinking lower into his chair. "I was just about to say how I'd never hear the end of it. Heaven forbid the head of this family ever make a decision with the three of you demonizing me from it." He grumbled. Helga, knowing better, let the comment pass, but she smoldered inside.

"Oh, Helga, this is going to be so wonderful!" Olga exclaimed. "Geoffrey and I will help you with your move on Saturday. It'll be so exciting!"

"Right." Geoffrey chimed in. "Perhaps it will give young Arnold and I the opportunity to share some of our experiences out in the world. And of course, the pitfalls of taming these Pataki women, eh?" He chuckled, giving Arnold a wink. Arnold responded with a hesitant smile.

"Tamed?" Helga cocked her eyebrow, crossing her legs underneath the table. With her shoe off, she was able to run her toes across Arnold's legs, making him very uncomfortable. His unease only seemed to redouble her efforts. "I'm not the type of woman you tame, Geoff. Olga, maybe. But I've always prided myself on being a tigress. Arnold here can attest to who wears the pants in this relationship, right?"

There was something about Helga's smile that Arnold felt was a little too wide. "I, uh."

"Of course she does." Bob chuckled. "She's a Pataki! If anyone can whip the kid into shape, it's a Pataki."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll make a completely new man out of our Arnold." Helga maintained her smile, her foot running down his leg. Arnold couldn't help but wonder now that Helga was protecting him from Bob, who would be able to protect him from Helga.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_Robert and I were traveling to New Jersey for a signing. Courtney had just released my first collection of columns, with some of my poetry thrown in as a good selling point. I was pretty excited, this was the first time anything of mine had been published in this kind of capacity. I'd had a poem or two put into collections before, and of course I could see my columns in the newspaper every week, but I'd never actually been able to go to a store and find a book that was written by me. And an actual signing? People were going to come and stand in a line just to buy my book and have ME sign it? Crazy talk! But Courtney said it wasn't, and who was I to turn down this kind of opportunity?_

_I'll say this about the Garden State. You jump on its parkway, and you start to get really annoyed that you're stopped every few miles to pay a toll. What, they couldn't have just built it like the Turnpike? You get on and pay all at once when you get off. Much easier. But hey, they don't let people like me build these systems. Somehow, after all the highways, after all the tolls, after all the fast food we got from rest areas along the way, we arrived. The first thing I asked for when we walked into the store was a large Coke. I think all the grease from the fast food was getting to me, and I felt a little queasy. I left Robert to set everything up, took my soda, and curled up on the sofa in the employee lounge. I must've dropped off for forty-five minutes or so, but when I woke up, my stomach was feeling a lot better. I was groggy, but revived. It was 1:35 in the afternoon, less than half an hour before the signing event was supposed to start. I walked into the bathroom and wanted to scream. My hair was a mess. I looked like someone had just pulled me in off the street. There was no way I could let people see me like this! I quickly washed my face and decided to did what I could with my hair. All I had in my purse was a brush, nothing fancy that would fix it. Words can't describe how stupid I felt for letting this kind of thing happen to me. Too late now. I couldn't make it perfect again, but at least I looked decent. I hoped that this would at least give me a kind of down to earth appearance. No one could accuse me of trying to put myself on a pedestal._

_I went out to the table Robert had prepared for me. He must have pulled a hundred or more copies of my book from the storage room. I thought he was way overestimating my popularity. People like me, sure. But that much? Sounded like wishful thinking to me. Then I got to see the line of people waiting for me. They were slowly being corralled into the building, waiting behind a velvet rope for the signing to start. I could already feel my wrist cramping up. Why were so many people here just to see me? I mean, sure, I know, people like my column. I read my fan mail, it's encouraging. But I'm no Dave Barry. I'm certainly not Ann Landers. But people have taken me into their hearts just the same. And I'm really grateful that so many people out there think so highly of me. I'll try not to let you down. _

_I pulled out my chair and picked up my pen, ready for my fans to come and meet me. Robert took a chair beside me, his hair slicked back. He looked good in a suit. He set a stack of 8 x 10 glossies in front of me. People were going to request a photo of me? It seemed almost too weird. I mean, I'm not much to look at. It's not that I think I'm ugly or anything, but I see ordinary people everyday who are much more glamorous than I am. Maybe this kind of thing just comes with the territory. People like me, they want to know more about me. Plus, the headshot they run in papers rarely does anyone justice. Especially once its put into black and white, ugh. I've never really been very enthusiastic about having my picture taken. The camera usually catches me with my eyes closed. Fortunately, Robert made sure I was well taken care of. This picture was a simple number of me in a white shirt. I was standing to the side with my head turned toward the camera, smiling in an almost seductive way. Dare I say it? I looked almost. . .sexy. I would, of course, find out later that Robert had raided a photo album of Darren's. That would account for the photo, all right. _

_They started letting people in, and I greeted each person with a warm smile. I definitely wasn't used to this kind of fame, but I didn't want to appear nervous. These aren't just readers anymore, now they're paying customers, paying my salary, as it were. And I can't say that I wanted to pass up the opportunity to interact with my readers on a more personal level. _

_As you would probably expect in this sort of situation, I met all kinds. Some were non-committal, barely saying hello. They wanted to get what they came for and get out of there. I respect that. They might not be buying it for themselves, or maybe they're just the type who don't interact with others very well. Most were friendly, they just wanted to take a moment to tell me how much they enjoyed my work, or ask me the usual questions. Oh, that reminds me. Never ask a writer where he or she gets their ideas! Because the truth of the matter is that none of us know. It's all just a part of the creative process, and creativity is a talent. I don't have any special ceremony I go through to figure out what I'm going to write about from week to week. It just comes to me. I couldn't tell you where my inspiration comes from any more than an artist, or a musician, or a sculptor could. If it were possible to put creativity in a bottle, someone would've done it a long time ago and make a fortune. I can tell you that some people consider bottles of "liquid courage" to work just as well for creativity. I've even tried it once or twice myself, but there's nothing I can pinpoint that is a surefire cure for writer's block except time. _

_Anyway, there I was, signing my name to people's books, leaving cute little messages, ditto for the photograph. If you're to believe every book or photo that I signed that day alone, I've got close to three hundred best friends. Silly? Of course. But hey, that's what the public asked for, that's what they got. Besides, I do consider them all my friends. Anyone who reads this column week to week is sharing in my own personal experiences. Be it from the stories I tell, or the rally cries I shout out, or just how I try and explain the way these things get written, you're becoming a part of my life. Welcome to my heart. Pull up a chair. Admission is free. I can answer some of your questions but you might not like the answers. _

_We closed up shop a the end of the day. It had been a good time. Even the people who I felt idolized me a little too much were mostly pleasant. A little unsettling, perhaps, but pleasant. The owner of the store invited us out for dinner at this small place just down the road. It was quaint, the food was good, the portions were large, and the prices reasonable. They also had a nice selection of tea to choose from, which helped after a long day. And I can't tell you how nice it was to eat real food again after all having two meals of fast food on the way down. That didn't stop Robert and I from pulling into a rest area about halfway home for some ice cream, mind you, but I don't really consider that to be fast food._

_So that's it. That's how I spent my Saturday. It was pretty exciting, but since it was after one in the morning when I pulled into my driveway, my homecoming wasn't quite as exciting as it could have been. Darren was asleep on the sofa, apparently he had waited up for me as best he could. Mom didn't have the heart to send him home. I gave mom a sleepy hug. Carl seemed to be at his finest, but then, his kind has always been nocturnal anyway. I woke Darren up and slipped into the kitchen to put some hot chocolate on the stove. Thanksgiving was coming, but it was still a rare occasion that all of us could be found together. We sat around the kitchen table for an hour and a half, talking and laughing about the crazy stuff we did as kids, torturing my poor mother, driving her up the wall. Especially Carl and Robert. They were terrors! Yep, we all knew each other. That's what family is all about. Eventually, Dr. Dave came down to ask what the commotion was about. Someone looked at the clock, and we realized that it was now after 3AM. Were we crazy? We went off to our separate beds, Darren crashed on the couch. And Ginger? Well, Ginger sat down at her desk with her trusty laptop computer and wrote the pages that you (hopefully) just had the pleasure of reading. Right now, birds have just started chirping outside her window, which she's taking as her cue to get a little sleep. I've been up for about twenty-four hours now, so I think it's time that I get myself a little shut-eye. Thanks for staying up with me, everyone. I had a blast!_

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"The exact moment I fell in love with Helga?" Arnold asked, feeling a lump form in his throat.

"Yes. Surely, you must remember something as important as that! I know I remember when I fell for you!" Rhonda insisted.

"Oh really? When was that?"

"I asked you first." Rhonda reminded him, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Her voice was husky, soft, promising everything any man could ever dream of.

Arnold felt broken sitting next to her, knowing he could not deny this girl who knew him so completely. She was tormenting him, forcing him to remember some of the most difficult memories he had formed with the blonde. "I loved her when I realized that everything she had done was for a reason. When she told me about who she was, what her life was really like. I loved her when I realized that she was the girl I had been waiting for, ever since I lost you. I know that you don't believe me, but it's true. She doesn't reveal herself to people. There's a wall around her that most people can't even see. But when you get past that and get to know the woman inside, you learn who she really is. There's something mesmerizing about her, Rhonda. She's incredible! She has so much potential, she can become anything that she puts her mind to. And she told me that she loves me. That it was always me and no one else! And she proved it! What else could I do? I saw her that night, cold rain beating down on the roof, matching the torrents of tears streaming down her face. She was so vulnerable, she was so beautiful, I just. . .my heart went out to her."

"What about everything that she did to you?"

" It just didn't seem to matter anymore." Arnold shrugged. "Love overcomes those kinds of things, right? It's about what you feel, the past becomes the past. Even after everything that happened, even after she left. . .I'm having trouble being angry with her. I've been worried, I've been upset, and I've agonized over why she left me. But I'm not angry."

"I see." Rhonda frowned, feeling threatened.

"For what it's worth, I wasn't angry with you when we broke up, either. It wasn't your fault I know that you were just, well, following orders."

"It was an ultimatum I should have refused, Arnold, and we both know it. I would give anything if I could only go back in time and tell both of my parents to shove it. But I didn't. Instead, I did this to us. We were the ones who should've been married. We deserved that kind of happiness."

"Maybe." Arnold ventured. "I can't say for certain. But the way things happened, I feel like it had to have been for a reason. Maybe we broke up so that the universe could make sure that I found my way to Helga. Or maybe Helga's role in our story is to make us realize how much we love each other. All I know is, that as soon as I find myself getting used to the idea of being with one of you, I start to get this sickly feeling on the inside. I think it's guilt, but maybe it's more. I just don't know. But I believe that there's a reason for everything, whatever the outcome is."

"Is this your brilliant optimism shining through the dark clouds once more?" Rhonda gave him a weak smile, ready to cling to anything that could sustain hope for her continued relationship with Arnold.

"Hey, if you can't be optimistic, then life becomes self-defeating. From what I've seen, if you go through life expecting the worst to happen to you, then that's what you're setting yourself up for."

"Why is it that bad stuff always seems to fall in your lap?" Rhonda asked, placing her hands on his shoulders and resting her head on top of his. "You've never done anything to deserve these kinds of difficulties."

"Nobody's perfect, Rhonda. Everyone has skeletons in their closet."

"Maybe so, but I can't think of anyone that has less than you."

"No one?" Arnold asked in a disbelieving voice. He found that concept pretty hard to swallow.

"Well, I suppose you might come pretty close to a Miss Phoebe Heyerdahl."

"Phoebe?"

"Mmm-hmm. Gerald has told me so much about her. Now she definitely sounds charming. I tell you, Arnold, if I had to suggest another woman for you to pursue besides me, Phoebe sounds like she would fit the bill quite nicely."

"It's funny how Gerald never told me very much about _you_." Arnold changed the subject. "What was going on between you and Gerald? I saw you two together just a few days after I got back. You looked pretty cozy."

"A proper lady doesn't kiss and tell, Arnold. You of all people should be able to appreciate that."

"Oh, but it's okay for you to ask me to spill my guts about everything that happened between me and Helga?"

"That's different." Rhonda explained. "Gerald and I are merely gossip. Talking about you and Helga is therapeutic. It's exactly what you need."

"You are so full of it, you know that?" Arnold groaned.

"Oh am I, now. You're one to talk, aren't you? I'm not the one who can't make a decision between two people here. I've already decided on you. But you're being pretty stubborn about which girl you want next to you."

"I know, I know. But we're talking about a big decision here. This is going to effect the rest of my life. That's not exactly something that I want to rush into. I don't want to make a decision that I'll only end up regretting."

"Regret is inevitable, Arnold. In everything that you do. You can't just waltz through life without experiencing any kind of regret. That's just not the way it works. You have to learn to take your regrets into yourself. To beat at peace with them."

"But I hate having regrets!" Arnold persisted. "They just remind me of all the mistakes I've made in my life! Who needs that! I'm not an idiot, when I screw up, I learn from it. Why should I have to carry the pain of that mistake around forever?"

"Our regrets make us who we are. Have you ever stopped to think about that?" Rhonda pleaded with him. "I made a mistake when I broke up with you. It's been haunting me ever since, until I finally decided to do something about it by coming here and having it out with you. Don't you see? I needed that pain to push me onto the right path!"

"Maybe you're right." Arnold relented. "Maybe I'm just being down on myself. I do need my pain."

"You're the one who taught me that in the first place, silly!" Rhonda giggled at him, tracing a finger down his chest from behind him. "Aren't you glad that you have me here to remind you of these things."

"Well, it certainly isn't hurting." Arnold chuckled, feeling better about the entire situation.

"Good. I'm glad that we have that behind us. Now, as I recall, it's time for me to tell you something. Just so long as you let me know how that dinner turns out. That sounds like a recipe for disaster if I ever heard one!"

"You don't know the half of it." Arnold shook his head.

"So you've said. Alright then, I'll show you mine, just like I promised. I remember the exact moment that I fell in love with you. It was when. . ."

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Courtney Gripling paced back in forth in front of her large window, wondering what she was thinking when she entrusted something this important to Ginger's less than scrupulous brother. True, the boy had talent, but she felt as though she couldn't leave this task to anyone but herself. After what seemed like an eternity, Deirdre walked into her office, with a stack of papers in hand.

"I've got that fax you were waiting for, Miss Gripling." Deirdre said excitedly, practically bouncing her way over to where Courtney stood.

Courtney took the document and began thumbing through it, trying to absorb everything that she could about this girl. "Helga. Ugh, I ask you, what is the world coming to? What sort of cruel parent would give their child such an unpleasant name!" Courtney rambled. "Oh, and the poor dear looks to be desperately in need of a makeover. Deirdre, make a note. Perhaps we can coerce this girl with a free trip to a health spa to make her feel young and beautiful." Deirdre pulled a pad out of her pocket and started scribbling. "I've got to call Carl." Courtney continued. "Order out a box lunch from the café across the street, I'm afraid I'll be eating in my office today."

"What about your afternoon appointments?" Deirdre asked, eager to please as always.

"Reschedule them for me. And keep holding my calls. I'm only taking calls from Rhonda or Carl this afternoon. I have to give this project my full attention."

"You've got it!"

"Thank you, Deirdre. You may go now. Buzz me when lunch arrives." Courtney released her secretary.

"The usual?"

"No. Make it tuna on white, and a mocha latte. I'm afraid I need the caffeine."

Deirdre nodded, then walked out of the office, looking back once before shutting the door behind her. There was no consoling Courtney when she got this anxious.

As soon as her secretary had gone, Courtney picked up her phone and dialed Carl Foutley's cell number. He picked up after only two rings. "Carl? Yes, it's Courtney. The file just came in. Yes, I'll have it Fed-Exed to your office right away. You can decide that for yourself. Carl, I'm serious! I'm hiring you as a detective, not a dating service. I am relaxed! Look, just keep me posted, all right? I have to fax Rhonda and let her know that I got the packet. Yes. Yes. Please let me know the instant you have a lead. Yes, I have the manuscript. You deliver this Helga person to me, and I'll print it. That's right. Yes. Talk to you soon. Ta-ta!" Courtney happily hit the end button on her office phone and set it back on its cradle. She laid her head down on her desk, letting her golden blonde hair fall about her face, and wondered how her life had come to this.

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Author's Notes

It's happened again. Another chapter finished just under the wire. How do I manage to get this thing done every week, I ask you! I don't know if I'll ever figure it out. I always spend the whole week feeling like I'll never get this thing finished, and then, lo and behold, it's done. Rejoice, for I've done it again. And so far, I think it's pretty good, but you let me know what you think!

So far, I really feel like everything is coming together. I didn't have too much difficulty with the actual writing parts this time. The Pataki dinner is not easy, but I'm managing to plow through it so far, so I must be doing something right. Here's hoping that I can continue to get this right.

This was a busy week for me. I even put up a poem under the Teen Titans section. Those of you that have me on author alert probably noticed that already. If you haven't, but would like to take a look, try following the link on my profile page. It's titled "Birdcage."

And for some good news, I have a big job interview today, I'll probably be in the middle of it while a lot of you are reading this. Wish me luck, I could really use this position. I'll thank you in advance for that.

And now, the part you've all been waiting for, back to the reviews!

So, J.A.M., it looks like you're back on top. We'll see how long you stay there. You never know if you'll get dethroned again, right? But seriously, thanks for being so loyal. I haven't put a storm into the Pataki dinner yet per se, but all the ingredients are in the blender. We'll see what happens. And I think that Olga will always be bubbly, that's just who she is. Helga is not a schizoid. She's a little crazy, but I don't think it's dangerous. Helga is still in the process of becoming herself, she needs time to get herself together. Yup, we had 9 days of rain. I figure since Ginger lives here in Connecticut with me, she must've suffered the same way. There's tons of stuff coming with Rhonda throughout the story, she's a pivotal character. Don't turn your back on her for a second. I'm thinking that losing my last job will be beneficial in the long run. Especially if I get that new job tomorrow. I'll do my best to keep up the good work. Thanks for the reviews!

I'm sorry the last chapter wasn't very exciting for you, ahhelga. I'm hoping that this one had some more fun and drama in it for you. Let me know what you think, okay?

Acosta perez jose Ramiro, I'm glad to see that my story is continuing to draw you in. I try to portray the characters in these situations the best I can. I really want the storyline to be alive and human to the readers. I want everyone to feel an emotional investment in it. Thanks for your praise and I'll continue to keep writing for you!

Thanks for coming aboard, Readrbug21. I enjoyed your review. I like to think that Helga's relationship with Arnold will always be antagonistic, but it is a bit like a sibling thing, the way she won't let anyone hurt him but her. The Ginger columns are usually my favorite parts to write, because they're much more unique than everything else. And as you mentioned, I feel they really help with the flow of the story. Thanks for noticing. And you also seem to think very highly of my little story. I'm glad, it feels so good to be touching the hearts of so many people. Be sure to tell your friends about the story!

Thanks for being so patient with me, Laurel. I know it took an extra week, but I hope that you found it was worth the wait. I'll try not to keep you waiting like that very often, but I can't help it from time to time. And you're a Ginger fan too, I see. I love it! She's always been inspiring to me, which is why I decided to include her to begin with. Don't worry, I won't be giving up on her! And your support about my job situation is much appreciated. Wish me luck in my interview on Monday! In the meantime, enjoy the newest chapter.

Roxynomekop, I'm sorry that I teased you so with that little steamy part you enjoy. But like I said, it'll always be there for you. And who knows? Someday, there may be something similar to it that's real! I'm glad that you're able to keep enjoying it, I hope it'll cheer you up whenever you feel down. I do agree that passion is much more important than lust, because lust always fades. Besides, anyone who has seen the series knows that Helga is a passionate person. She always has been and always will be. If you enjoy my portrayal of Helga and want to be able to write like that, I suggest you study her character in the series carefully, keep track of the little things. Then study my own writings on her. Lastly, put yourself into her head. I've always found that I have to work Helga from the inside. She's full of pain, but you have to get inside her to really know who she is and what she's going through. Thanks for wishing me luck, I'll need it on Monday. And allow me to be the first to say beautiful review, my love! See, I'm not bad with other languages either!

Hi, rhfntc. Yup, nine days of rain. Crazy, isn't it? Anyway, Helga isn't all that warm to Geoffrey because he reminds her of Olga. She doesn't outright dislike Geoffrey, but she's not exactly looking to spend a lot of time with him either. If anything, Helga feels that Geoffrey is a suitable husband for her sister, and that's enough for her. Regarding the column, the ironic thing here is that I have very strong political beliefs. I just don't like mixing them into entertainment, that's why I made the column neutral. I'm not going to have Ginger or anyone else take a political side. All it does is alienate part of your audience. It annoys me to no end when celebrities do it, or it creeps into entertainment programs on TV. So I spare everyone else the politics here. However, I made Ginger a neutral observer just to make a point. Consider her fairly apolitical. Arnold and Helga's story is very complex and full of pain, but there are some happy times between them as well. In the end, I think it will all boil down to which girl can offer Arnold what he needs. Keep reading!

Flashback Weekend, another new reviewer. Thanks for coming! I hope you like the twists and turns this story will prevent. I notice that the word count is getting high, but hey, a story this complex takes time to tell. I hope that you'll read more and let me know what you think.

And lastly, a big shout out to Rachel West. I know I didn't get around to e-mailing you this week, I've just been going crazy looking for a job! I didn't forget about you, so I hope that you don't feel slighted. No reviewer gets left behind, I promise you!

Thanks for coming again, everyone. It's good to be here. I hope you'll come back again next week. I should still be here. If I feel like it. Aww, you know I love you all! See you in seven days!

Lord Malachite

10/24/05

4:03AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	19. Fashion Sense

_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_It's been a long day. I just don't know how else to say it. Okay, guys, this column is for the ladies. So all the men out there, you know I love you, but you might want to sit this one out. Or stay, if you like. But don't say I didn't warn you._

_Okay, girls. Now that we're as alone as we're going to get, I'd like everyone out there who has a boyfriend, fiancé, or husband to raise their hands if you think that they're impossible. Uh-huh, that's what I thought. Let me assure you, ladies, I feel your pain. Allow me to explain._

_Darren wakes me up all frantic this morning about this big job interview he has on Monday. Apparently formal attire is expected, and he doesn't own a suit. Let me put that into clearer perspective for you, girls. My twenty-one year old fiancé doesn't own a suit. Oh, but it gets worse than that. He doesn't know how to shop for one either. In fact, he pretty much needs me to dress him for this thing. Now I'll admit, I know a bit about men's fashion. Definitely a lot more than Darren does. He only has one tie, for goodness' sake! And it doesn't even fit him properly!_

_Well, what else could I do? I was awake, he was asking for my help, I grudgingly agreed to help him out. But I didn't get up right away. After I got off the phone with him, I rolled over and spent another half hour in bed out of spite. I took my sweet time in the shower, too. Finally, about quarter to noon, I pulled into his driveway and picked him up. And then I made him take me out to brunch. That was nice, really. I hadn't been out to a real breakfast in a long time. Usually I just get a bowl of cereal at home. When my day is really stressed, it's fast food to the rescue. But this was really nice. Sit down service from a friendly waitress who managed to bring me my order exactly as I'd asked for it. Experience has taught me that's a very rare thing when it comes to ordering breakfast. There are too many ways to prepare eggs, and everyone seems to interpret them differently. The tea was decent as well, not too strong or weak. But I'm digressing._

_All right, so we had a leisurely brunch, and hit the road at about 1:30 in the afternoon to find my man a suit. It was then that he hit me with the fact that his budget was about thirty dollars. I don't mind telling you that I almost screamed. Where was I going to find a decent looking suit for thirty dollars or less! I pulled the car over into a vacant lot and sat drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. I was supposed to be thinking up ways out of this jam, but I found my thoughts wondering to the various places I could hide Darren's body. Unfortunately, I had breakfast with him in public already, I was established as the last person to see him. Not a good position to find yourself in. I shot Darren a dirty look when he asked me what was wrong, but finally started the car again. I had figured out the solution to our problem!_

_It took nearly an hour to get up to the nearest Goodwill store. Now, if any of you girls have not had the privilege of shopping at Goodwill, then you can't begin to imagine what it's like there on a Saturday. Actually, it's a lot like Wal-Mart, only it's a lot less disorganized. It's catch as catch can around those places. However, you can find some really nice stuff in there if you're willing to spend some time. And spend time we did. Nearly three and a half hours of time, pulling every suit off the rack that we didn't get beat to. I thought I was going to cry by the end. Would you believe that we just couldn't find one that fit him? They were all either two sizes too small, or else he looked like a small child playing dress up with his father's clothes. But finally, at long last, we found the magic suit. The jacket fit, the pants fit, we didn't care about anything else. It wasn't his best color, but desperate times called for desperate measures! _

_And so, you would think that this tale would now reach it's happy ending. Ha! Yeah, if only! Nothing is ever that easy. We had to get him a dress shirt as well. You'd think that would be the easy part, and it almost was. Darren's never had problems fitting into any of the shirts I've given him. Actually, we didn't pass a single one that was tight on him. Until I tried to button his collar. That was when our day fell apart. We must've tried about twenty-five different shirts that wouldn't button around his neck before I finally gave up on it. I drove us both home and grabbed my tape measure. His neck is nineteen inches. Nineteen inches! It's scandalous! Why hadn't I ever noticed that Darren filled out so much in high school? Or perhaps this was just National Give Ginger A Hard Time Day. At least it would give the banks and post offices another excuse to be closed for the day. Ugh, maybe I'd better not get started on that subject._

_So there we were, off to a Wal-Mart to find him a shirt that fit. At this point, I didn't even expect them to be in stock, but I was pleasantly surprised. We found three shirts that fit him perfectly. All that was left now was the tie. Darren had a tie, but we couldn't possibly get it to come down to his belt properly. Fortunately, we were saved once again by the kids department. They had zipper ties. These have got to be the greatest invention ever made! They look like completely normal ties, only, they just zip up. None of the phony looks you would get from a clip on._

_And so, at long last, the day was over. I really don't know how we managed to pull it off. And I still feel like I could throttle Darren for putting us through this. I mean, honestly, how did he get to be so helpless? Do all men really need this much help getting dress, or did I just get lucky when I picked Darren. Something tells me I'm never going to find out. Oh, right. And when it comes to suits, whose bright idea was it for them not to come in normal sizes? I mean, a woman knows her size, right? I can pick any outfit off the rack and know that it should fit properly, unless someone at the factory mislabeled it, or worse, if I've been denying the fact that I put on a few pounds. Not that I normally put on a lot of weight. Heh heh. . .heh, okay, let's change the subject. Preferably back to what I was ranting about when I started. Men really need our help, don't they? I mean, let's face it. They'd be lost without us. Of course, you just know that they feel the same way about us. I don't pretend to understand the male ego to well, though. And I hope I'm not coming across as bitter. I love Darren, really. Even when he makes me want to slap him upside the head for being such a guy. Maybe that's what love is all about. Or maybe I'm just reaching. When you're as tired as I am, lines like that get way too blurry. Everything starts to seem wonky and out of focus. Although I think a lot of that has to do with the time of year. Halloween had always been a time when crazy stuff can happen for seemingly no reason. Come on, you know you remember scaring yourself out of your wits when you were kids. You had to have. Eh, maybe I'll talk about that after the holiday is over. I scare a little easier than I like. _

_There is a lesson to be learned from all of this, of course. Make sure you own some formal wear. And Darren, if I've left this somewhere you can read it before it goes to press, you'd better get that job on Monday! Because next time, I'm going to make you take me shopping! _

_Okay, everyone, have yourselves a great Halloween. I'll see you back here in seven!_

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"Arnold! We're going to be late!" Rhonda called for what felt like the tenth time. It was unbelievable. Weren't girls supposed to be the ones who were never ready? "What are you doing up there?" Rhonda yelled up the stairs.

"Nothing! Nothing!" Arnold responded a little too quickly, prompting Rhonda to trudge her way up the grand staircase into her bedroom. Arnold was standing in front of the mirror, looking haggard. As soon as Rhonda saw him, she couldn't stop herself from laughing.

"Omigosh! This. . .is too. . .priceless!"

"What?" Arnold asked in frustration, fidgeting with his collar.

"Arnold?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't know how to tie a tie properly, do you?" She giggled.

Arnold turned beet red at Rhonda's accusation. He couldn't believe that she would find out like this. But then, he hadn't planned on having to wear a tie, either. "I do too know how! I'm just, uh, having a little difficulty. You know, wardrobe malfunction."

"Yes, well, I've had plenty of those in my time. Here, let me help you." Rhonda entered the room and stepped over to her mirror, bringing herself up right behind her boyfriend and staring ahead at their reflection. "It's a good thing for you that I've had some experience with this. You're not the only helpless man I've dated over the years, you know."

"I am not helpless." Arnold insisted, reluctantly allowing Rhonda to go to work on the unholy strip of fabric Arnold was beginning to think of using as a noose.

"The key is just learning the steps. Honestly, it's a lot like tying your shoes!" She grinned as she looped the tie around his neck and began maneuvering it in ways Arnold could barely even fathom. "Once you learn how, you never forget." She fastened the tie securely and pulled it up to his neck, perfectly in between the collar on his shirt. "There we are, all done. Don't you look handsome?" She batted her eyes twice, planting a brief kiss on top of his head.

"Rhonda, that was amazing! How did you do that so easily?"

She laughed slightly in response, turning on her charm. "What's amazing is that I'm able to do that on someone else. My father taught me how to do them when I was in junior high. I went through a phrase when I was trying to make myself seem more high powered. I thought that wearing a tie helped. I don't really know if it did or not, but now I'm stuck with another skill I don't have much occasion to use." She shrugged.

"Well, it sure seems useful to me." Arnold gleamed.

"Thanks. Maybe I should take out an ad in the yellow pages."

"No way! I want an exclusive on your services!"

Rhonda smiled, then her face took on a more serious look. "Hey Arnold?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't mean to pry but, um, how come your grandfather never taught you how to put on a tie?"

"Huh? Oh! Well, it's complicated but, um. . .do you promise not to laugh?"

"No." And Rhonda giggled happily at him.

Arnold sighed, then decided to tell her anyway. "I never asked him."

"You never asked him?" Rhonda reiterated, as thought unsure that she believed him.

"Yeah. Pretty silly of me, huh?"

"Any particular reason why you didn't?"

Now it was Arnold's turn to chuckle. "I remembered how hard it was for me to learn how to tie my shoes when I was little. I just didn't feel much like going through that again."

"I see. And how were you planning on getting through life without ever knowing how to put on a tie, hmm?"

"I was planning on marrying you, dear." Arnold responded coyly. But his remark had the desired effect. Rhonda's eyes took on that far away look, she was contemplating something deep inside her head. "Rhonda?"

"What? Oh, right. Well, I have to admit, the idea of marrying you doesn't sound so bad. I could certainly do worse."

"You mean you would consider it?" Arnold asked, blushing.

"I don't know." Rhonda winked. "I haven't been asked yet."

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"Yello?" Carl Foutley asked as he opened his cell phone. "Oh, hey, what's up? You got it? Excellent. Should I swing by to pick it up? Well, okay, your loss toots. Oh come on! You're sending Dodie? Fine, fine. I 'm on the road. Okay, I'll call you when I get there, and you can send Dodie over. Not a problem, already working on getting a little extra help. How hard can it be to find one girl, right? Yeah. Okay, Seeya." Carl hung up and held the phone in one hand while maneuvering to pass an eighteen-wheeler who was only doing seventy-two miles an hour. "Let's go buddy, clear the road!" He shouted out his window as he passed by, pulling ahead of the truck. Once the road was clear, he looked down at his cell phone and opened a line up to his best friend.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

"Robert Bishop's cell phone." Ginger Foutley laughed into her assistant's phone. Robert was too busy navigating rush hour traffic to answer himself. "I've always wanted to say that. May I ask who's calling?"

"Hey, sis. It's your loving brother. Where's Hoods?"

"Navigating the unending joy that is Interstate 84, Carl." Ginger rolled her eyes.

"Can't you put him on?"

"He's a little busy at the moment. You know, it is illegal to talk on your cell phone and drive in this state, Carl."

"Sorry, I've got bigger fish to fry. Look, a big job just came in. Huge."

"What kind of job?" Ginger asked suspiciously, immediately distrusting her brother. He had a bad habit of pulling stunts that bordered on illegal.

"Let's just say a mutual acquaintance of ours just hired me to find someone from her."

"Find who?"

"Some blonde girl last seen in Washington state. I wouldn't want to bore you with the details."

"And what exactly are you supposed to do when you find her?"

"Nothing special. Just report her location to the paying customer."

"Carl. . .I hesitate to ask, but you're not doing anything like fingering someone in the mafia, are you?"

"Ging, I'm deeply hurt you'd even ask. It's a straightforward job completely on the up and up!"

"Hmmm." Ginger pursed her lips, still not entirely convinced. "Hold on, let me check. Hey, Rob?"

"Yeah?" Robert sighed as he crept through yet another of the countless construction sites on the interstate. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever get home tonight.

"Carl wants to know if you want to help him with a missing person's case he just got."

"Who's missing?"

"Some girl in Washington. He says it pays big bucks."

"What's the catch?" Robert asked.

"That's what I'm wondering about." Ginger reiterated. "He says there isn't, if you believe him."

"I dunno, Ginger. Sounds like we'd be away for awhile. Who would drive you around to your events?"

"Uh. . .I'm guessing myself." Ginger laughed. "It's not as though I can't drive, Rob."

"I know that. But this is what you pay me for, to take care of the little stuff so you can focus on writing." Robert protested.

"Rob, it's okay, I can manage for a week or two. We can clear my schedule before you go. Come on, I know you're dying to do something with Carl. It's been ages."

"I'll go if you promise not to replace me when I'm gone."

"Promise not to replace you? Well, sure, okay. I promise I won't replace you when I'm gone."

"You two are going to make me sick!" Carl gagged on the other end of the line. "Will you please tell Hoods to stop flirting with you and drop by my place tonight!"

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather tell him?" Ginger asked.

"Just do it, okay? I've gotta get going before I get pulled over. Why don't you go ahead and come too." Carl added. "I'll talk to ya later, sis."

"Okay, bye." Ginger pushed the end button on Robert's phone. "Carl says to stop flirting with me and for us to come by his house tonight."

"I'm not flirting with you!" Robert protested his innocence.

"I know." Ginger chuckled.

"I'm serious, I would never do something that unprofessional!"

"I know."

"Oh come on Ginger, I'm serious here!"

"I know." Ginger laughed out loud, knowing all too well she was getting to him. Robert wisely chose not to respond and concentrated on the road.

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"That was it?" Arnold asked. "That was the moment where you decided that you loved me?" Arnold asked, feeling confused.

"Yup."

"What was so special about that? Was it because I couldn't put my tie on properly?"

"Well, yes. At least, that was a lot of it. You just looked so helpless, like a little lost puppy. My heart went out to you."

"So now I'm helpless?" Arnold groaned.

"No, no! You're not helpless! You just looked it. Oh come on, Arnold. I thought you were so adorable. I still do!"

"And here I was, hoping it was some special moment." Arnold sighed, shaking his head.

"It was special! If it upsets you that much, I'm sorry."

"I'm not upset. I'm just, well, disappointed, I guess."

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to make it up to you." Rhonda cooed, suddenly looking quite voluptuous.

"Rhonda. . ."

"Does it really matter how or why I love you, Arnold? Isn't the important thing that I do? That I'm yours to do with as you please?" Her voice was a whisper in his ear, sending him falling forever backwards into the sofa.

"But, I really don't think-"

"I think we've had enough talk." Rhonda's eyes beamed seductively. "Perhaps I should be pleading my case with actions. They do speak louder than words." Her lips met his, and Arnold's eyes closed involuntarily. He was trapped within the unending comforts of her kiss, full of passion and life. Oh, yes, he remembered her clearly, how could he ever forget?

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Author's Notes

Yes, I know. There's no Arnold/Helga footage in this chapter at all. There's a reason for that. I'm completely blocked with them right now. I am so blocked up that I need a wrecking ball to get it moving again. It's not a case of not knowing what I want to do, just a case of not being able to get the words out of me. Every time I try, it's like eating soup with a fork. I'm absolutely embarrassed at what I write, it's like something I would've written in sixth grade. It's disgusting, but it's true. I think I'm just going through too much right now. I'm under massive quantities of stress and always preparing for one job interview or another. I just can't get my crap together right now. To be completely honest, I don't even want to release this chapter, as I feel that my heart isn't in it even slightly. Most of the writing in here isn't bad, but it's very far away from my best. None of it is memorable. And that hurts me, deeply. Because I realize that this week, for the first time, this story just isn't fun to write at all. It's a tremendous burden. Writing has never been like that for me before. I normally love doing this. And I love all of you for reading. But right now, I just can't cut it.

I know, I know, this chapter is rather short, for me. But I just couldn't do it this week. I've been going crazy with the job interviews and the like, I just haven't had time for anything else. Even right now, I can't take the time to properly respond to these reviews, because I have to go to bed early. I'm truly sorry for that, but I felt it was better to put this up as is than take another week off. I promise a return to the usual next week, honestly. This one has just been absolutely crazy.

I think what hurts the most is that I know how many people I'm letting down. This isn't me. I'm always dependable. When I make a commitment, I make it work. But it just isn't happening this week. From the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry. I know that everyone loves Arnold and Helga, but they are just so difficult to write for, and I'm just under too much stress to deliver. I will try to get it right next week. Maybe I won't have an interview every other day, and I'll be able to relax. I know that I'd like that. I also know that I'd like to be able to work on this story again and talk about what a pleasure it is. I just wish I knew why things are like this. I feel like something inside of me is missing. The creative side. Things should just be different than this. I'm better than this. I never succumb to writer's block, I always push past. But I've just lost the ability somehow. Let us all pray that it comes back to me swiftly.

On a positive note, I do believe that the story is crossing the one hundred thousand word mark with this update. Wow, I didn't think I would ever write one single story that's so long, but here it is. Sometimes I marvel at home much I'm able to get down. Stringing words together isn't nearly as easy as it seems, but the good authors, they always make it seem like a cinch, don't they. Take a look at your favorite authors, be they for books or right here on Don't you find yourself hanging on the every word of their stories? Always wanting to know what happens next? I find I'm that way myself. I'm an avid reader of books, although I don't have nearly as much time as I'd like. And this week, I don't know, since I feel like I really need to make up for this chapter somehow. I just wasn't able to give it my all.

Bah, short chapter, short note. I just can't go on, I'm exhausted. I would like to thank everyone who reviewed my chapter last week. Don't get discouraged if I didn't get back to you personally this time, I should be able to work it out for next week. I've just never been so thoroughly blocked before. It's very frightening and depressing. This kind of thing doesn't happen to me, but here I am, wallowing in the inescapable wrath of writer's block. Words just can't describe my disappoint, or the feeling of inadequacy this is giving me. In fact, I think I'm just going to go and slither off, and pray for some inspiration to get me out of this block and back on the path.

Again, from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry about this chapter. But if it will make you feel better, you can send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

10/31/05

3:18AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26

No, seriously, send them. I could really use some cheering up about now. I can't imagine feeling much worse.


	20. Seconds, Anyone?

"Seconds, Anyone?"

(Chapter Dedicated to LilyJames)

All things considered, dinner wasn't a complete disaster—so far. It had taken near constant direction from Helga, but it seemed as though Big Bob had moved from outright hostility towards Arnold to a grudging tolerance. Somehow, Arnold suspected that this was about the best he would be able to hope for. He'd take it. He didn't expect to have to see Helga's father very much anyway. Things were moving along well enough throughout the main course until talk shifted to business. Arnold had unthinkingly made a comment about how the need to sign a contract to obtain cable and satellite and cell phone services was harmful to consumers, and Bob launched into a tirade about how those contracts were put into place to protect content providers, which cause Helga to groan and Arnold to sink very low into his chair. Once Bob ran out of steam, Olga took it upon herself to rescue the evening.

"Helga, do you mind if I borrow your husband for a few minutes?" Olga asked in a polite but pleading matter.

Helga nodded in response to her sister's request. "Please, take something sharp with you." Helga proffered her steak knife, but Olga declined, gesturing for Arnold to follow her. Arnold readily excused himself from the dinner table, feeling that a hasty retreat might be in order.

Olga led her brother-in-law into the trophy room, where she looked at him with a pitiful expression. "I'm sorry," Arnold started, "I didn't mean to upset your father."

"People rarely do." Olga paced. "Helga is the only person I know how pushes daddy's buttons intentionally. "Maybe that makes her braver than I am."

"Is he mad at me?" Arnold asked.

"Probably. But do try not to take it personally. There are few people in life that Daddy generally likes. He never liked Geoffrey when I first brought him home, even though he's such a wonderful man. I think it's because daddy feels intimated by men in our lives."

"Intimidated?" Arnold frowned. "Well, I guess I can understand that."

"I don't know if Helga ever told you, but when I announced that I was marrying Geoffrey, it caused a huge fight in our family."

"Really?"

"Yes." Olga nodded. "Mommy was fine with it, and Helga, well, she didn't object. I don't think she really cared. I so wanted Helga to be able to get along with him, but she stays distant. I guess maybe that's the best I can hope for." Olga let out a sigh, feeling sad. "But daddy, he. . .he forbid me to marry him!"

"You're kidding!" Arnold was aghast. He couldn't understand why a father would stand in the way of his daughter's happiness like that, not when such an upstanding suitor like Geoffrey was calling on her. He and Olga were like too peas in a pod.

"He did. I had to. . .force the issue somewhat." Olga suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"You eloped?" Arnold asked.

"Not exactly. I. . .I told him I was marrying Geoffrey whether he liked it or not."

"What happened?"

"He refused to go!" Olga sob, tears streaming down her face, causing her mascara to run. "He said that if I wanted to marry Geoffrey, I would have to do it without him. And he refused to even help with the expenses."

"I'm sorry." Arnold whispered. He didn't know what else to say. No one should be married without their parents and loved ones with them unless that's the way they wanted it to be. His thoughts dimly wandered to the shotgun wedding Helga had sandbagged him with, and what his parents would think of it. There was something wrong about not even being able to remember the blessed union taking place.

"We eventually worked it out." Olga finally smiled. "It took a bit of prodding from mom, and even some persuasion from my sister, but in the end, he came, and it was a beautiful wedding."

"Helga helped you!" Arnold was taken aback. "I don't mean this in a bad way, but I thought that she didn't like you."

Olga sat in one of the chairs, drumming her fingers on its arm. "Our relationship is not what I wish it to be." She admitted. "Maybe it sounds crazy, but I've always felt that I should have some kind of special bond with my sister. But she doesn't seem to feel the same way. When she was younger, she once told me that she couldn't stand me. I remember feeling crushed. It was the worst feeling that I could recall in a very long time. I had been student teaching for Mr. Simmons, trying to grow closer to Helga. But instead, I only drove her away. She sent me away after that."

"She sent you away?" Arnold asked.

"She told me that it was the only way we would ever be closer. I don't know how, but I knew that I had hurt her. And so, I left to teach underpriviliged Inuit children in Alaska."

"That's terrible, Olga! Helga shouldn't have done that to you."

"No, you're wrong." Olga shook her head. "Helga and I did grow closer while I was up north. We corresponded. We wrote each other these long letters to each other describing our lives. She never confided much in me, but, once or twice, I could tell she was looking for guidance, even though she would never come out and ask for it. I eventually asked her if I could return to Hillwood, and she wrote that I could come back if I promised not to stay at the house for more than a few weeks. And we did bond then, a little. I moved out shortly after that, and our relationship improved. I know that she still doesn't like me very much, but. . .the day I got married, she told me something that's become very precious to me."

"May I ask what it was?" Arnold inquired hesitantly, not wanting to make Olga feel uncomfortable.

"Of course! She told me that when she was little, she hated me, because our parents only paid attention to me, and because I was so focused on being pretty and popular and an overachiever. And even though Helga is so different, she told me that she didn't hate me anymore. She still feels uncomfortable around me, but she does want me to be happy. And maybe that's all that matters." Olga nodded.

"Well, I'm glad that this story has a happy ending." Arnold smiled.

"So am I. And I want to help you and Helga have a happy ending as well."

Arnold desperately wanted to tell Olga the truth about their relationship, but he knew that it would crush Olga's spirits. She focused so much on Helga, she wouldn't want Olga thinking that he was out to break Helga's heart. "So do I." Arnold said hesitantly, worried about what this might entail.

"She loves you, you know." Olga smiled lovingly at him, as though she were his sister as well. _Legally, she is._ The thought occurred to Arnold. He felt himself drawn back to a stolen moment in the living room when Helga had told him she loved him. It had seemed completely surreal at the time, as though it hadn't even happened. Helga had been an enigma for nearly all of his life, who knew what she really thought. Had she been telling the truth in that room? Was all of this, perhaps, because she had feelings for him? He swallowed hard, not sure what to make of those thoughts.

"I have to keep reminding myself of that." Arnold told her, feeling that it was the best answer he could give. He still couldn't help but think of Helga in his mind as the young girl who had tormented him throughtout most of grade school. The thought of her having some kind of feelings for him seemed patently absurd.

"Her love is worth fighting for, Arnold."

"Even worth fighting your father over?"

"If that's what it takes." Olga nodded. "Daddy doesn't like you because you're a factor in his life that he can't control. That's the same reason why he didn't like Geoffrey. Don't let that stop you. Love is too important."

"How can you know that Helga loves me?" Arnold asked.

"Because she would never take a step like getting married unless she was absolutely certain you were the one for her. I know my sister, Arnold, and she never does anything that isn't a sure thing."

Arnold felt like a deer in the headlights. He had no idea how to respond to this. Helga truly loved him? She sure had a funny way of showing it! No, it couldn't be possible. He refused to believe it.

Olga led Arnold back into the dining room. Miriam was continuing to nurse her wine. Bob had apparently excused himself into the kitchen to retrieve the next course, Olga hadn't been around to fetch it for him. Helga was looking bored, but she brightened up when Arnold returned to his seat next to her. "Please excuse our interruption." Olga apologized to the room as she took her seat.

Helga nodded curtly, giving Arnold an unexpected squeeze. "It's not polite to separate newlyweds, Olga."

"Sorry. I just wanted to talk to Arnold about a few things."

"Like what?" Helga asked.

"The future." Olga smiled. "You're a lucky girl, baby sister. He's a keeper." Olga giggled.

Helga looked from her husband, to her sister, to her husband again. Arnold could see something in Helga's eyes when she looked at him. Worry. Frustration. Anger. Guilt. Admiration. Worship. Fear. Love, in its purest form. "I know." Helga said in a low tone, her demeanor turning a little more serious. "I know." She placed her left hand over his and gently planted her head on his shoulder, the perfect picture of the perfect wife. Truly, after all she had been through, the very thought of losing him because of her father must be terrifying. Arnold reached for his wine and took a deep sip. Something told him he was in deep.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_Tick, tick, tick.__ You know what that sound means, don't you? Time's catching up with us again. Last weekend, I got to go through the old turning back the clock's routine. Because there's nothing like looking out your window at 4:30 in the afternoon and noticing that it's pitch black outside. But maybe I shouldn't complain too loudly. It's not like I didn't enjoy wringing that extra hour out of the day all summer. And getting an extra hour of sleep is always nice. Or at least, it would have been if I hadn't sat up half the night with Carl talking about where our lives are going. I didn't want to pass up a chance like that. Carl isn't one for thinking much beyond today, so I felt it was important to encourage him. He says that college is going well, which is definitely good to hear. When I first started attending university, I felt like I was lost. Things just started coming at me so fast. This was a major change in my life. Maybe more than I was ready for. But somehow, I got through it. And I got a few parties under my belt, too._

_So anyway, I woke up on Sunday morning, and of course I was messed up right from the start. I don't care if the clock said it was ten, it felt like it was almost noon! It's already Wednesday, and I'm still not completely adjusted. I feel like I can never get everything done in a day anymore. The sun keeps going down and I still have stuff left to do. The clock says it's only 5PM, but I feel as though it's after seven and I'm late for dinner! And, of course, my car isn't helping me out in that department. I just had to change the time in my car six months ago, and I still can't remember how to do it. Of course, it might help if I had done it myself in the first place. Last May, Robert took pity on me and just changed it while he was sitting in the passenger seat. I should probably dig out my owner's manual and actually keep it in the car, but I guess that would just make too much sense for me. You know how we creative types can be. I guess I'll have to plan another trip with Robert so he can fix my clock. Again. I'm not too proud to admit that I need help with stuff like that. I'm not big on programming electronics. I can do it, sure. But it takes me a long time and then I triple check everything because I just don't trust myself. Darren just pushes a few buttons and we're good to go. Back in high school, he was my computer virtuoso. You'd think I would know how to do more on this thing, but really I just surf the internet and play around in my word processor. I wouldn't know what to do with a database if you gave me step by step instructions. In fact, I'm not even sure what a database is, or why I would ever need to use one. Which is not to knock computers, really. I love my laptop. But aside from the few things that I normally do online and my writing, I'd rather read or watch something decadent on TV than learn some new program. Some people live their entire lives online, and I guess that's okay, if you find it fulfilling. But I'm the type who craves live interaction between my family and friends. Text on a screen can only get you so far. But I suppose that's the way the world works nowadays. Computers do everything for us anyway. It even told me that it was updating its internal clock for daylight savings time. Now that's a clock. It just fixes itself. Why won't the clock in my car do that, to say nothing of my VCR!_

_Tick, tick, tick.__ The year is passing us by. How did it get to be November already. Next up, the big holiday push. And around the corner, 2006. It doesn't seem like that long ago that we were celebrating the millennium, and now we're this far in. Soon enough, it'll be another decade. It makes me feel old. Does anyone else out there think I'm old? I mean, that girl at the supermarket did call me "ma'am" last week. I'm not even married yet! I'm too young to be a ma'am. . .aren't I? Am I losing touch with my youth? I don't talk to my friends much anymore. Somewhere along the line, we just developed separate lives. I don't know how it happened, but we did. I think it started in high school when things like boys and college became more important than anything else. I was guilty of an on again, off again relationship myself, I'll raise my hand there. I tried to do it all. Take accelerated classes, work on the school newspaper, date on the weekend, find the time to type up lab reports and term papers. . .you know, when it comes right down to it, I'm really not sure how I even survived those years. I must've been crazy. Or maybe we were all crazy. Goodness knows that getting an extra hour of sleep once a year on a Saturday night didn't help me much back then either. Saturday night was my date night, and while I did have a curfew, mom didn't mind if Darren and I were up at one of our homes. I guess that's all part of the privilege of dating someone who lived in the same town. Of course, we weren't always a couple, and in those periods where we were seeing other people, I spent a lot of nights at slumber parties. Hey, boyfriends come and go, but a BFF is forever. It goes with the title, doesn't it? Maybe not lately. I don't know what keeps me from calling my friends, but I just feel like there is a barrier between us. Things just aren't the same as they used to be. I wish I could say that it wasn't my fault, but I have to take some responsibility. I'm as guilty of not calling them as they are of not calling me. Was it just time for us to move on? _

_I know that I'm not the only one going through this. I like to think that I'm pretty mature, but exactly where did my teenage years end and my twenties begin. It's not just a matter of numbers, I know that. It's about what you're doing with your life. But I always feel like I have a foot in each world. I just don't feel like I'm ready to change. I know part of it had to do with my job. I'm writing. My job is my creative outlet. I get paid to do what I love. And I think that enables me to be immature when I feel like it. I don't have to dress up everyday. I only dress to impress when I need to go see Courtney. I don't know about when I do something public. I kept it casual the last time I did a signing. My only signing, so far. I don't know when my next one will be. I'll have to talk with Courtney about it. But she's been a bit distant lately. Every time I e-mail her, I get a curt response. I don't think that she's mad at me, but I guess she's troubled. I know that running a publishing house isn't how she envisioned her life turning out. She works with what she has. If there's one thing I can say about Courtney, it's that she never gives up. That's just not who she is. I know that as unique as her life is, I wouldn't want to be Courtney Gripling. And I can say that because I've done it. Yes, you heard me right, but it's a long story, and I think I'm already approaching the word limit for one week. See, it's like I told you. This column stuff isn't as easy as it looks. If it's too short, complaints come in about how the newspapers aren't getting their money's worth. If I yak for too long, then they complain that my column is crowding other stuff off the page. Ha! And you thought it was all glamour, didn't you? It's crazy, take my word for it. And as a writer, there's nothing worse than knowing that you've written something bad. So I'm always challenging myself so that I'll grow and exceed the expectations people put on me. Eh, it's a living. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. _

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

_Sooner or later, it all comes down to sex. I guess it can't be helped. It's the way we're built as men and women. And the way we interact doesn't make any sense at all. Why is it that after the thousands of years of people evolving, as individuals, as a society, in every way. . .and a boy and a girl still can't act normally around each other. The specter of sex is always lingering in the air. When a guy and a girl are together, it's always a possibility. Men and women just put expectations on each other, even on those we don't look at as potential mates. I know I'd like to say that I'm an exception. I know I've tried to separate myself from all that ever since I was little. Not that it's helped. I put up a pretty good front for others, but my insides turn to mush just like everyone else's. I'm no exception, damn it all. _

_But I have a right to be sexually frustrated, don't I? I'm still young and at my peak, and the only guy I'd ever allow to deflower me is far away. And I don't want him to know where I am for the moment. I was so close. We were so close. I thought that after fifteen years of hit and miss, of barbs and insults and my making him miserable; our eventual separation from each other as we drifted into different circles—I thought that finally, the universe was going to let me cash in. There's no question that it owes me. I've paid my dues. But now it's all slipping away. How did I ever let this happen? It wasn't supposed to be this way. Love was supposed to make us come through. And like a fool, I believed in it. I believed in love. What a dumb thing to do! I mean, how could I have been so naïve! That just isn't like me. It isn't who I am. I'm more the kind of girl who thinks practically. I used to laugh at girls who would get all lovesick over some dumb jock. What a hypocrite I am. And I know my downfall. I could've reeled him in. But I'm not sexy enough._

_That's right. Helga Pataki doesn't have it. I'm not voluptuous, I don't have a great set of curves. Guys don't stare at me whenever I bend over to pick something up or lean across a table to reach something. They don't stare because there's nothing to see. They just aren't interested. And you know, it's not like I think women should be ogled. Men are pigs, no one needs me to tell them that. But you know what? Just once, I'd like to know someone is trying to sneak a peek at me. Maybe that's wrong, but you know what? I could use the validation. I can't believe I just admitted that. I could use the validation. And I almost got it. Arnold accepted me. He knows what I am, and he was okay with that. And then I had to go and open my big mouth and screw everything up. Why do I always do that? What the hell is missing with me? Why can't I just let myself be happy? Maybe it's not who I am. I'm the type of girl who runs away whenever things get a little too real. I'll do anything to stay safe. To push away from my goal. I have to make sure that I sabotage myself in any way possible. It's my nature. I don't know what else to do. I don't know how else to act. I always feel like I'm watching myself do these stupid things, and I can't stop myself. When did I give up control of my life? I know that I had it, I had the power. I was married, wasn't I? To him! To the person who made everything right in my life. And it was good, for a time. But I let it fall apart. The honeymoon ended entirely too quickly, and soon it was business as usual for the two of us. It was like being nine again. I've always wanted to be nine again. Or maybe younger. I could go back. Get it right this time. Act like a normal person. Play the game of love the right way. I'm tired of being a fool for love. I know there's a way around it! I know there's a way to beat love at his own game! But I'm always beaten. Always a fool to the end. And maybe that was it. My last chance. I would give anything to see him again. But what could I possibly say? What could I do to make him forgive me? I ran out on my own husband. Maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world, there wasn't another man involved. But I could've been better. I could've been a better wife. I don't know why he put up with me as long as he did. Maybe that's why I can't help but admire him, love him. He's a better person than I'll ever be. He's my conscience and my guide. I'm nothing without him, and that's all there is to it. I'm nothing._

_Why is it that love, the one thing I have sought my entire life, has made me more insecure and hostile and dangerous? Why is the greatest feeling that exists in this world tormenting me so, making a fool out of me? Am I so worthless that I must endure this pain day in and day out? Does anyone even know that I'm going through it? Is there a point to it at all? Is this supposed to make me a better person! All I can think about is hating myself. I do hate myself, I know it to be true. How can I not? All I have is this pain, this loneliness. Like a fool to the end, I ran away from love. I'm like a child. Maybe I am just a child, trying to play the part of an adult. I can't say that it wouldn't suit me. Who is going to rescue me, now that I've slapped away his loving hand? Who is going to save me?_

Helga placed her pen down on the table and read over her thoughts, wondering what to make of them. For some reason, baring her soul, even to a piece of paper, just didn't feel right. Then again, there were few things in her life that actually felt right. All of them were fleeting.

"Does that really make you feel better?" Helga's roommate asked between mouthfuls of potato chips.

Helga frowned at the blonde girl, studying her face. Figuring out what was going on inside of her roommate's head was rarely an easy task. "Do you hear that?" Helga asked.

"Hear what?"

"The sound of no one asking for you to butt in." Helga growled.

"Oh, that. Yeah, I hear it all the time. It's no big deal. You just learn to ignore it after awhile."

"Lor, will you please go away?" Helga pleaded.

"You could try calling him, you know."

"I'm not the kind of person who talks over the phone."

"Yeah, because you do such a great job in person." Lor chided.

"Up yours."

"Oooh, somebody's touchy today. You start your period or something?"

Helga stood up, pushing her chair aside. "I'm really not in the mood for this right now. I'm going out."

"Good. You can pickup a case of Yahoo while you're out."

"I bought the last one!" Helga roared, clearly annoyed.

"Yeah, and you also drank most of it. Specifically, you took the last can. You know the rules, that makes it your turn. Or you can take on an extra utility this month, your choice."

"Fine, I'll get your stupid soda." Helga walked out the door without another word.

Lor MacQuarrie rolled her eyes and eyeballed the piece of paper lying on the table. She read about half of the first paragraph before setting it down. "Whoa, this junk is way too deep for me. That girl needs some serious help." Lor stood up, putting a pot of coffee on. In her years of traveling Europe, Lor had found that there were three decent cures on mornings when she was hung over—coffee, sex, or alcohol. Alcohol was the most effective, except for the glaring fact that in the end, it only exacerbated the problem. Sex was the best cure if she actually wanted to get sober, but it had been awhile since she'd gone home with anyone, so coffee was the most viable option. Coffee with cinnamon. Yes, that would do the trick. Then maybe she could put some solid food in her. While waiting for the coffee to percolate, Lor opened the door and walked down to the lobby of the rundown apartment building, still wearing her bathrobe. She turned the key into her mailbox and removed its contents. For the first time in six days, there were no bills. Maybe this would be a good day after all.

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Deirdre Hortense Bishop walked into Courtney Gripling's office to find the blonde in a desperate state; clutching a small box of wine and weeping. "Miss Gripling!" Deirdre ran over to Courtney in a panic, barely setting a box lunch down on the desk.

Courtney sniffed, lifting her head off of her desk. Deirdre handed her boss a tissue and turned her back, trying not to embarrass the woman who was falling apart in front of her. Courtney took the proffered tissue, blowing her nose and disposing of it. "I told you to buzz me when lunch arrives, Deirdre." Courtney said in a flat, annoyed voice. She did not turn to engage her subordinate, her makeup was a mess and it wouldn't do to show such weakness in front of the help.

"I did, Miss Gripling. Three times. You never answered. I got worried, so I sort of. . .let myself in. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. You've been crying, Miss Gripling. What's wrong?" Deirdre hesitated, about to place a hand on Courtney's shoulder, but then withdrew. It would not do to overstep her bounds.

"What's wrong?" Courtney asked, blinking her eyes and giggling bitterly. "What's wrong! I'll tell you what's wrong! Look at me, Deirdre! I'm falling apart! I'm losing clients! I'm begging for money from people I used to take pity on! I'm. . .I'm drinking cheap wine out of a box!" Courtney howled, striking the box with the palm of her hand. It fell off the edge of the desk, tumbling end over end until it hit the light carpet, which immediately proceeded to soak up red wine.

"You're doing fine." Deirdre tried to reassure her. "Look at yourself. You're doing everything you can with a terrible situation. No one can think less of you for asking for help now and then."

"Don't patronize me Deirdre. I'm just a failure, being propped up by people like you who take pity on the poor little rich girl who isn't rich anymore."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is!" Courtney insisted. "You wouldn't know. You fit in. You belong in this life. You were born into it. Everywhere I go, it's whispers. People whispering my name, talking about what happened to my family. I can't stand it! Last week I did my shopping at three in the morning so I wouldn't be noticed."

"I don't pity you, Courtney." Deirdre interrupted her. "I admire you."

Courtney rolled her eyes. "You're very considerate, Deirdre. But you admire the woman I was when we were in grade school. I knew that when I hired you for this job. It's the reason I gave it to you."

"Then why don't you believe in yourself? Who cares about the past? You are Courtney Gripling! I've never seen you admit defeat in your life! You were the one we all looked up to, the girl I always wanted to be! And I never admired you more than when I found out that you were opening up this publishing house. Ginger told me it was you who convinced her write that column. You gave her a wonderful opportunity."

"One that suited me, I assure you. Ginger is a very talented girl. I need her."

"Ginger hasn't carried you, though. You were the one who backed Brandon Higsby's line of children's books. They've certainly helped to pay the rent around here."

"Yes, yes. I have a habit of snatching up successes before they think of going elsewhere. But this isn't who I was born to be. Look, it isn't that I can't do working class. But I don't know if I can live the rest of my life like this. The only thing I've ever been exceptionally talented at is being Courtney Gripling. But that isn't the same as it used to be. I'm not the same."

"You're still the same to me, Courtney." Deirdre smiled.

"It's been a long time since anyone has called me by my first name."

"I'm sorry Miss Gripling!" Deirdre immediately apologized.

"I didn't say that you couldn't." Courtney added. She grabbed another tissue and wiped her face, grateful to see that not too much of her makeup was smudging. She stood up to go to the bathroom and primp herself, but then thought better of it and sat down, reaching for her lunch instead. It had been years since she had had a friend, someone she could confide in. Maybe it was time to let someone back into her life. Courtney set the box in her lap and swiveled the chair to face her secretary. "Close the office, Deirdre. I want us to have lunch together."

"But Miss Gripling, are you sure?"

"Call me Courtney. And I'm up to my roots in debt anyway. An hour or two isn't going to make a difference. And salvage that box of wine, if you can."

"Right away!" Deirdre ran over and grabbed the box off the floor, frowning at the large red stain. "Do you want me to get the carpet cleaner?"

"Don't bother, that will never come out. I'll just move my desk to cover it until we can get new carpeting." Courtney sighed. "Well, go on Deirdre. Lock up out there, I'm positively famished!"

Deirdre pressed her hands together, trying to say something. "Um. . .you can call me Dodie, if you like. E-everyone else does." She hesitated.

"Trust me." Courtney gave her a smile. "Deirdre suits you much more."

"Okay. . .Courtney. I'll be right back!" Deirdre ran out of the office, unable to contain little squeaks of delight at the prospect of becoming part of Courtney Gripling's inner circle.

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"We shouldn't. . ." Arnold whispered into kisses he shared with Rhonda, bringing back fond memories of high school. For someone as upper class as Rhonda, kissing her always felt normal. Very pleasing, but when their lips met, he never felt like he was out of her league.

"Maybe you weren't listening." Rhonda breathed. "I told you I'd do anything you want. How many women can say that and truly mean it?"

"Why are you so fixated on me?"

"Why are _you _so fixated on Helga?"

"I asked you first." Arnold grinned, teasing her soft lips, unable to resist the way she pressed her body against him.

"I told you. You're like a lost puppy. And you have one of those faces. You're very difficult not to love."

"Now see, I find that hard to believe." Arnold brought his hands up to her delightful black hair, always soft, always silk. It felt like fine thread running between his fingers. The most delightful fabric he had ever known.

"You're horrible! After all this time, how can you not believe me when I tell you I love you?"

"Not that." Arnold shook his head. "That I'm hard not to love. Nadine didn't seem to have any problem with that. She dropped me like a bad habit and never even bothered to explain why."

"I'm not Nadine." Rhonda protested.

"No, but you were her best friend. She never told you why?"

"Nope." Rhonda shook her head. "It beats me. Personally, I think that she was a fool, throwing away your love like that. It's too good to let go of so easily."

"Well, if I ever see Helga again, I'll be sure to tell her that."

"You still want to see her?" Rhonda asked, shocked.

"I can't let it go the way it is now. I'm not saying I should get back together with her, but I would never let the two of us break up the way she and I did. It just isn't right."

Rhonda extended her tongue, licking his cheek. "You are mine, boy. Don't get any funny ideas. You belong to me. Not her. She was only borrowing you for awhile."

Arnold laughed at her, unable to look her deeply in the eye. "You're unreal. That's the exact thing Helga said about you!"

"Oh, and you're going to believe her over me! I saw you first, Arnold."

Arnold straightened, clearing his throat. "Actually, Helga did."

"Oh bullshit! She didn't even put the moves on you until a few months ago. You and I have a much longer history."

Arnold wasn't certain about that. While he had certainly been involved with Rhonda for a much longer period, he had always had a history with Helga. As the blonde had pointed out when they were married, the two of them were always connected since they were little. Helga had always singled him out for her abuse. And she had told him how she had wanted him ever since they were in pre-school. That had left him thoroughly confused. How was he supposed to respond to Helga's feelings? _How do I want to respond to them? _He asked himself.

"Arnold?" Rhonda asked.

"Yeah?"

"I'm in trouble aren't I?"

"Don't talk like that."

"No, I can sense it. I'm losing you. I'm losing to her."

"I never said that."

"You don't have to. A woman knows these things." Rhonda explained.

"Look, Rhonda. I won't lie. I am in love with her. You know that. But just because I am, well, that doesn't mean that I can live with her. I know that I can live with her. But I have to get this stuff with Helga sorted out before I can make a fair commitment to either of you."

"How could you forget!" Rhonda sniffed.

"Forget?" Arnold asked, feeling confused.

"You've forgotten about us! What did she do? We were so in love, Arnold. We were so in love!"

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

Author's Notes

Oh yeah, that was a good chapter. Come on, admit it. That totally made up for last week. I know I didn't really put in material between Arnold and Helga. I will next week, that's a promise. I just shifted the focus to Olga this week because I felt that there needs to be an understanding between Arnold and Olga. I feel it's the best way to keep things feasible. Olga loves her sister so deeply, so she would crave the attention of her brother-in-law. She would want to know exactly who he is, and make sure that he's dedicated to making her baby sister happy. Olga is also a different kind of Pataki than the others, which makes her more interesting. It's important to keep that in mind. She's the optimist, and she doesn't hide all of her feelings the way that Bob and Helga do. Anyway, next week _should _be the conclusion of the dinner. I say should because one never knows with these kinds of things.

I know that I've been pumping out a lot of Ginger columns lately. Not being at work, I find myself with more time to think, so in Ginger's own words, "I have a lot to say." I did want to work some stuff with Sid and Nadine in here, but instead I decided to do a "present day" sequence with Helga and her roommate. This way I got to work with Helga's character more, and I didn't have to cheat the readers out of seeing her.

For possibly the first time ever, it was Arnold and Rhonda that gave me trouble this time. I contemplated cutting them out entirely, but then I decided to just push through and persevere. I wanted to make sure that you all got you're money's worth after I short changed you last week, so here you are.

Before I move on to the reviews, I just wanted to extend a special thank you to LilyJames. Your e-mail truly helped me put my writer's block in perspective and move towards getting constructive again. I might have been wallowing in self-pity forever if it weren't for you. Thank you so much for your kind words. I don't know how else to pay you back, so I'm personally dedicating this chapter to you! But you might have noticed that already. Thank you!

Okay, now, in the interest of my not wanting to be able to release this chapter in time, I'm just going to give out a generic, rousing thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 18. Those were some very kind things you said. If there was a question you wanted me to answer, submit it again and I'll get to it next week. To be a sport, I will cover the responses to chapter 19, so here we go!

Hello again, The J.A.M. You're doing a pretty good job with being the number one reviewer again. Anyone want to try and challenge him? The story was a burden to me last week, but I believe that I've gotten past that now. I didn't have too much trouble writing this week. It took me a lot of time, but then, this is a very long chapter. It was approaching 7000 words before I started the author's notes, so goodness knows how high I'll rack it up by the time we're done. Like I said, I'm giving out your money's worth this week. I can't agree with you more about the number one rule in story telling, thanks. Ginger didn't suggest sending Darren to a tailor because he's low on dough. And while Ginger makes a living at writing her column, Courtney isn't exactly paying her top dollar. In fact, she's paying Ginger very little for her work, but it's what she can afford to pay. I'll go ahead and admit the embarrassment. The column from last week is about me and how I spent October 30 looking for a suit for an important job interview. Which I ended up turning down anyway, but that's a long story. I make the columns rather personal. I still haven't quite figured out why I'm so comfortable writing from a female's perspective, I just am. In fact, you know what, forget I said that! Yes, Ginger has gotten into the story. It was not my original intent, and she certainly isn't going to be a major player, but I arrived at the conclusion that it was unrealistic to not pen her in at some point. Don't expect the story to become about her, though. For ATBG characters, Courtney is the one who will get the most screen time. As for Rhonda, like I said, actions speak louder than words. Turns out I didn't need another week off, but thanks for your concern. We'll talk again soon, I'm sure.

Acosta perez jose Ramiro, thanks so much for your kind words. I really felt like I had failed when I couldn't come up with any Arnold/Helga material last week, so your review helped make me feel like the chapter was still worthy of being a part of the story. As you've already read, I feel like I got things back on track this week, so I'm feeling pretty good. I'm not that good at dressing up either. I can do fancier shirts, but I can't tie a tie, and jackets feel stifling to me. I'm 26 years old, and I've never had the experience of being in a tuxedo. Since I don't really have any friends, I don't have any weddings I'll be getting called to be in. I suppose there's always my wedding…but there's only one girl I have my heart set on right now, and it's still much to early to talk about that sort of thing.

Laurel, I'm glad that you found my chapter refreshing. I must admit, it did feel good to actually write a little something with Ginger for a change instead of only having her talk at the audience. I don't know if I'll make a major habit of it. It depends on how many people like it. I don't want to take the focus off of Arnold, Helga, and Rhonda. Yet at the same time, I feel that I have to sometimes, to keep both myself and the audience from becoming bored. A good narrative needs to have breaks and shifts. Perhaps I should just make it a poll. In fact, I did. Everyone check the italicized text at the end for the poll and respond in your reviews or e-mails or what-not! Back to the review, it's definitely reassuring to see people have the same dilemmas that I've had with formal clothes. Now I don't feel quite as hopeless as I did last Saturday. Your post also makes me glad that I didn't join the Boy Scouts, I don't think I would've made a very good one. It is very stressful not having a job, but even so, it's less stressful than working at the horrible place I did for over two years before. I have my unemployment hearing on Tuesday, and I think they'll somehow prevent me from ever seeing a dime, so do wish me luck with that. I need to get some kind of satisfaction against that place and its Stalinist approach to labor.

Readrbug 21 (I'm going to call you Samantha since you listed it as an AKA), I'm sorry about only having half a chapter last week. I hope that you feel this made up for it. It did feel really good to pass the one hundred thousand word mark, I think that was all that was driving me forward last week. It's good to know that I've got my writing mojo back, though. I didn't need a week off right now, but a break is coming soon. I'll more than likely have to put the story on hiatus sometime in December so that I can write "Ceremony Of Innocence," which will be my third installment in the series I started with "The Sweet Hereafter." The story is only a one-shot, so it shouldn't occupy too much of my time, so I don't expect the hiatus to be too long. If you're sad during that time, try reading some of my other stuff. It'll give you a good excuse to if you haven't already! And thank you for the love, especially since it's warm. Trust me, I can use that as of late. I need it!

And rhfntc, glad you could make it again. Another person who was glad to see Ginger "in person." That warms my heart, because it makes me feel like I'm making the right creative decisions with my story. You want Carl to find Helga so that Arnold and Rhonda will stop kissing? Doesn't that sound like a Jerry Springer topic? But seriously, I guess you'll just have to keep reading to see how all of this turns out. It felt really good to cross that one hundred thousand word milestone. In truth, I almost dragged out "The Sweet Hereafter" to cross that line nearly a year ago, but I thought it would be bad for the story. As I wrote at the end of it, I had to let Helga grow as a person in that one. Even so, some people still didn't like the ending, so go figure. It's nice of you to say that my writing is brilliant. I put a lot of work and thought, and especially hours into these things. Reviews like these are what somehow make it all worthwhile. I do feel like I'm in the zone again, so if anyone was disappointed last time, this should blow that away. I do agree that I am my own worst critic, so thanks. Maybe I just needed to hear that. You're about the only person I know who was _relieved _that I didn't include Arnold and Helga last week, but I completely see your point. And you thought I've been doing a lot of angst with them now? Ha! Wait until later, my friend. These are like the happy days! Um, cue the ominous music here. I think I am past it, or else I wouldn't have been able to write all this, but thanks for telling me it's okay to take a break.

Okay, that about wraps it up. Now, here's the small Ginger poll I created. Remember, this is just like regular elections! If you don't vote, you don't get to complain about the way things are run!

_How should I handle Ginger in the future?_

_a) Just do the columns and keep her out of the story unless necessary  
b) Leave the columns as they are and put her in the story more_

_c) Put her in the story more, but trim the columns down some_

_d) Foutley go home!_

And as always, keep sending your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

11/7/05

4:11AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	21. Just Desserts

"Just Desserts"

Helga Pataki, Arnold decided, would be his undoing. He had underestimated the girl at every turn, and now that the stakes were increasing, she had him wrapped up like a Christmas present. And Helga was the wrapping. Being fawned over by this girl was an experience like no other. As she lazily twirled errant strands of his hair around her finger, all the while embellishing their Vegas wedding to Miriam and Olga, Arnold's thoughts flashed to a time long ago, when he had briefly pretended to be Helga's boyfriend in order to make a sweet girl named Lila jealous. Lila was a name that Arnold hadn't given much thought to in years. He dimly remembered being completely infatuated with her, but she never seemed to be interested in being anything more than friends. Being Helga's boyfriend, even as an act, wasn't quite as unappealing as he had first imagined. If anything, he did learn that Helga knew how to play the part of a girl with the rest of him, at least, when it suited her. Still, it was strange of her to have offered to help him out when he never even had anything nice to say about him. She did it willingly, and almost seemed to enjoy it, even if it was only for a few days.

Mentally, Arnold continued to wonder what was eating the girl. She wasn't incapable of normal human relationships. But it was as though she never wanted to be looked at in that way. The older she got, the more she hid herself. In junior high and high school, the old gang began pairing off, as always happened. Over the years, partners were sometimes switched, but Helga refused to even dance. He never knew her very well after sixth grade, but he wasn't even certain if she's ever had a boyfriend of her own. She was always by herself. Yet here she sat, being overly affectionate, clinging to him and having an animated discussion about the wonders of marriage they were still discovering each day.

"Dessert's on!" Bob bellowed, returning from the kitchen with pieces of cake that had been cut crookedly, and crudely scooped ice cream. He maneuvered around the table, slapping plates down in a hurry to get to his own.

"About time, dad, I'm wasting away here!" Helga moaned, grabbing her plate and shoveling a big bite of dessert into her mouth. Suddenly, Arnold began to remember he hadn't noticed Helga's "charms" when they were in school.

Bob grunted, then gave the newlyweds an annoyed look. "Hey, hey! Break it up you two! There's no hanky panky at the dinner table!"

"It's just a little cuddling, _dad._" Helga spat the title back at her father. "We have a little more class than you."

"Eat your dessert!" Bob roared.

"Whatever!" Helga scoffed.

"B, please, can we just eat in peace?" Miriam groaned.

"Well excuse me for not wanting to watch our daughter wrap herself all around this joker. It's bad enough just knowing what they do together at night, I don't need a constant reminder."

Helga slammed her fist down on the table, bringing all eyes in the room onto her. Bob looked at her as though daring her to say something, but she remained silent. That would be exactly what he wanted, and she made it a habit never to play games by Bob's rules.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Bob snorted, returning to his dinner. Helga flexed her fingers back and forth several times, a fury in her eyes that desperately needed an outlet.

"I don't have to justify myself to you, Bob." Helga pushed her dessert away.

Bob shook his head, as though savoring the moment. "Ho, ho, you think you're so smart, don't you missy? You know damn well I would never have let you marry such an unambitious nothing, so you made sure I never got any input."

"You're goddamned right I did! You have some nerve! After what you tried to pull with Olga, did you think I would ever let you dictate the terms of my happiness?"

"I am your father, you ungrateful wretch."

"That's enough!" Arnold yelled, standing up.

"Stay out of this, kid."

"No! I'm not going to sit here and do nothing! That's my wife you're talking to! And I say that she doesn't have to listen to any of it!"

"Hey, I spawned the brat, I helped bring her into this world, and I demand respect!"

"Yeah, well, I guess maybe if you acted like a person deserving of it, you would get it." Arnold folded his arms across his chest.

"Those are big words coming from a shrimp like you." Bob said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "Fine then. You know what, kid? She's your problem now, and you're welcome to her."

"She's not a problem, Mr. Pataki. You're the only problem I can see here. Come on Helga, let's go home."

Helga was pressed back completely in her chair, her eyes spread out like saucers. Arnold had just defended her. _Her! _Helga G. Pataki. No, that wasn't right. She was Helga P. Short. Arnold had said so. _That's my wife you're talking to!_ The words played over and over in her head. _Oh, Arnold, finally. For how many years have I longed for you to defend me, to shelter me, to turn your warm and caring actions upon me. Have you finally begun to see me as I've always wished? Has your heart finally been moved by the countless declarations of love I have whispered to you from my bedroom window in the still of the night? Have my prayers at last come to fruition; my grief turned to joy? Can you finally see that I am the girl who can love you like no other, who will stay by your side day and night, never wavering, never doubting? Do you, at long last, know that I love you?_

Helga heard Arnold call her name, and she responded. She was his to command, had always been his since the first time they had met. "Yes, Arnold?" She asked in a voice full of worship and admiration. Arnold, slayer of Bob.

"We're leaving now." Arnold beckoned to her.

Helga stood up, a dreamy expression on her face as she watched Bob sitting in shock. She took Arnold's outstretched hand and clasped it lovingly, stepping around the table to stand at her husband's side, more love in her eyes now than in the past fifteen years combined.

"You walk out that door, don't come back." Bob growled. Helga ignored him.

Arnold stopped for a moment and turned to the two women who were staying behind. "Mrs. Pataki, Olga, you will always be welcome in our home." Arnold then walked into the hall and out the front door, taking an ecstatic Helga with him.

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After they had gotten a block down the road, Helga glomped her husband. "Arnold, that was brilliant! You really put Bob in his place! I've been waiting to do that for years!"

"I just couldn't stand the way he was talking to you." Arnold sighed. "You are my wife, and, well, I can't let someone talk about my wife that way. Even if I didn't pick you."

"Thanks Arnold."

"Don't mention it. I was just doing my duty."

"I'd say that you went beyond."

"What about your family?"

"Who, those crazies?" Helga laughed. "I wouldn't worry about it. Miriam and Olga will make Bob feel like dirt and he'll make a grudging apology when he can't take it anymore. He's not really all that mad at me, or even you. He's just gets like this whenever he comes face to face with how much of my life he's missed out on. He gets guilty and thinks he has to somehow make it up to me. He never gets that it's a little late for that."

"I'm sorry, Helga."

"Don't be, it's not your fault. Come on, let's go out somewhere and grab a burger."

"But we just ate dinner!" Arnold started.

"Yeah, I know, but trust me. After that, I've worked up an appetite."

Arnold smiled at her, and the began walking in the direction of downtown. "Whatever you say, Helga."

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_I'm just going to come right out and say it. It's not easy being a girl. In fact, I'm not sure if I ever got a hang of the whole thing completely. Ironically, it's not really anyone's fault. But I never really figured out the social structure. Or more accurately, I never really learned how to successfully navigate the female social structure without compromising my integrity. _

_I don't know why this is, but women seem to have trouble getting along with each other. I never saw it this way with guys. And I'm not trying to put anyone down. But guys seem to have the whole friendship thing worked out to a science. There's just certain, unspoken things that guys don't do to each other. If someone does, that's usually the end of the friendship. But with girls, things are usually more dramatic. Guys don't hang out with other guys they don't like. Most women I know, myself included, aren't quite so heartless, and we will engage ourselves with people we might outright dislike. So then what happens when things go south? We end up having a fight, not wanting to be friends anymore. But then we will anyway. From what I've learned, it's that men don't forgive and don't forget. Women forgive, but don't forget. Maybe we just like the drama, but it's true. I've gotten into some really nasty situations with people I consider to be my best friends. And maybe we could put things together again later. . .but it wasn't quite the same. Does this make us any more evolved?_

_Does anyone know why we're like this? Is it some kind of innate thing we can't control? Is it locked into our gender? I just don't know. I like to think that I'm better than that. I don't really consider myself one of those bra burning feminists, but the differences between men and women never seemed to be such a big deal to me. Sure, we're different. Women are better than men at lots of stuff. And there's some things that men just do better. It's not a contest, it's just, well, maybe it's like that for a reason. Maybe it's because together we make a complete species, a complete bond. I've always had that feeling when I'm in love, that this is the person who will fill in my gaps, who will complete me. I've been with different guys in my life, no two of them the same. And each one made me feel, well, different. I don't know how many times I've truly been in love. I've had plenty of crushes, yes. But love is so much better. . .and sometimes, so much worse. _

_There are times when I've really been worried about being in love. I didn't feel safe or warm or reassured. I felt naked and exposed, insecure about things lasting. And sometimes. . .too often, really, I was right. I'm still not sure why Darren and I put each other through everything that we did when we were younger. We were friends, good friends. But as usually happens between boys and girls at that difficult age, we agreed to throw that away in favor of something greater. And it was. To this day, even if I knew everything that would happen between us in the future, especially with my friends, well, I wouldn't change things. I would return his initial feelings. Willingly, and without any resistance. And it saddens me to know that we put each other through so much high school crap. We didn't keep our promises. We had wandering eyes and gave into our weaknesses. Even after everything we gave up for what we thought was love. No, that's not right. It was love, even then. We were just too stupid and immature to give it a real chance. But if we had to make mistakes, I'm glad it was then. Life is a learning process, right? And that's exactly what it was for us. _

_Eventually, we learned to get our stuff together. But it didn't happen overnight. Sometimes it takes a few tries to get things right. You have to push yourself, dedicate yourself. Set goals and work towards them. And I decided that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life being bitter about the stupid an immature things that we did to each other in high school. I read once that true love doesn't keep a slop bucket lying around. You know what I mean. Ammunition. Keeping track of everything your significant other did that was wrong or stupid and then throwing it back in their face when you have a fight. When you really love someone, you do forgive and forget. You don't keep score. And that's the kind of relationship that I'm slowly putting together. Being in love isn't easy, let me tell you. It can be pretty exciting, but it can really cost you if you aren't careful. Too often, when love is new, we give ourselves to it completely, and we don't see the things that we should. Only too late do we realize that we thought was love is really just a crush, an infatuation, or worst of all, lust. And it's just so easy to delude ourselves over these types of things. When it comes to romance, most of us have a nasty habit of only seeing what we want to see. And that's understandable. When you really like someone, you tend to overlook their faults. And if they care for you in the same way, they'll overlook yours as well. But that's also how incompatible couples that can't make it also get started. And sometimes you have to go through that. Love, like life, is a learning process. How many people can honestly say that they've only been in love once. People over the age of twenty. Not many, and I don't doubt that some of them would be lying. Maybe that's a little harsh, but I hate to see people make decisions that they shouldn't based purely on love._

_Does that make me a hypocrite? I'm the one who threw away a friendship with a great guy so I could be his girlfriend instead. It might not have been the wisest thing I could've done in life. Truthfully, it ended up buying us just as much pain as it did happiness. And yet, as I stated, if I had it to do all over again, I would. What can I say, love does crazy things to me. I guess Darren does some pretty crazy things to me too. He has this really clever thing he does with my feet when I'm feeling down and, well, maybe I'll just leave that one to your imagination. _

_Now I'm not even sure if I'm making sense anymore. But that doesn't surprise me. If love were supposed to make sense, then I think all the romance would be taken out of it. Talk about defeating the whole purpose. Maybe it's meant to drive us crazy. Maybe we weren't intended to have any control over it. We're just supposed to follow our instinct, follow our heart, and give into the feeling, whatever may come. This is who we are as a species, and who am I to dispute that? I certainly know that I'd never want to be accused of trying to hold up the whole process. I consider myself to be a romantic at heart. I believe in love. I have to believe. Because with all the mistakes that I've made as a person, that we've all made as a society, I just have to believe that things can be better. That we're all fundamentally good. And if we aren't able to love, then what hope is there for us?_

_Do you love someone? Then go tell them right now. If you've always been afraid to tell someone how you feel, then you should go tell them. You'll only make yourself a better person for it. Believe in love. It's real, and it's waiting for you._

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"So that's it?" Sid asked as he walked down the lamplight street with Nadine, the two of them licking ice cream cones. Fortunately, at this time of year, Slaussen's kept its doors open until 1AM, being something of a hangout for teenagers on the weekend. Some parents grumbled about giving their kids an excuse to stay out so late, but it was also true that having a decent place to hang out probably kept them out of trouble.

"We weren't that serious, Sid." Nadine rolled her eyes. "I mean, Arnold and I really liked each other, but I don't think it was love."

"Do you miss him?" Sid asked.

"Sometimes." Nadine twiddled her fingers. "Often." She admitted after a moment.

"But why did you break up with him?"

"I had to."

"Nadine?" Sid asked, growing concerned. "I don't know why you say that, but it sounds like it might be something you haven't completely dealt with. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to."

"But that's the problem, Sid. I want to tell you."

Sid reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she recoiled from his touch, and he quickly took it away. "I'm sorry." Sid muttered. "I don't know what I should do."

"You're not the one that should be sorry, I am." Nadine's voice increased in pitch. She sounded very upset.

"You don't have to be sorry, Nadine. Sometimes stuff just hurts."

Nadine gripped Sid's free hand with her own. "If I don't tell someone, I'm going to go crazy!"

"Then tell me. I'll listen. I swear it."

"Okay, here goes. Sid?" Nadine asked.

"Yeah?"

"What's the worst thing that can happen to a woman?"

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"What's the worst thing that can happen to a woman?" Lois Dave asked. "Marrying someone who ends up giving you two first names."

"Mom, I'm serious!" Ginger pleaded, settling down backwards into a chair. "Come on, I need an honest opinion here. What's the worst thing that's ever happened to you? I mean, that you can talk about."

"Well, most people that know me would say that it's Carl, but I always felt that the worst thing that's gone down in my life is that I was never able to spend as much time with you kids as I wanted to."

"Really."

"Yeah. It's not easy being a single mother, Ging."

"I know. I mean, I don't know first-hand, but I can imagine. We must've put you through a lot."

"More than you remember, I bet. But that's a part of life. When you have kids, you take on certain responsibilities. Being a parent is a full time job. Being a single parent and a hospital nurse, oy, don't get me started!"

"How did you do it, Mom?" Ginger asked, picking up a piping hot mug of tea and cupping it with her palms.

"I don't know, I just did. It wasn't something that I had to get through, y'know. I wanted to do it. So what brings on all the questions?"

"I don't know, I guess maybe I've been thinking of becoming a parent myself lately." Ginger met her mother's gaze, and backpedaled a bit. "Not that I _have _to start thinking about it or anything, I'm not even married yet! It's just, you know, now that I'm in my twenties and all."

"Oh come on, Ginger, your biological clock couldn't have that short of a fuse."

"No, it's not like that. It's just. . .Darren and I are trying to plan ahead. If we have kids, that's a big step. I don't want us to both go into this whole marriage thing with different ideas about we want from this."

"Mmm, now that is a good thing." Lois commented. "Sometimes I wish your father and I had looked farther ahead."

"You didn't agree on how many kids you wanted?"

"No, not that. We just kind of let you and your brother happen when we were ready. Don't worry, neither of you were a surprise. Jonas and I never really fought over you two. We just had different expectations on what a marriage was. You be careful yourself." Darren's a great guy, no question there. But you make sure that you both understand each other's needs before you go through with it. Marriage is one compromise after another."

"So I've heard." Ginger giggled.

"Oh you have, have you? From who?"

"Dr. Dave." Ginger laughed outright. Lois scowled at her daughter for a moment before chuckling herself. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out the way it sounded. I just asked him for a little advice. I even asked Dad, but he did tell me he wasn't great at the whole marriage thing. At least he was honest."

"Look, Ging, I know what you're thinking. Just because I failed at my first marriage doesn't mean that you will too. That's part of being a parent. I raised you to be smarter, and not to make some of the same mistakes I did. You don't think that I just raised you with a bunch of rules because I liked making you frustrated, did you?"

"Well, the thought did cross my mind a few times mom. You really made stuff tough on me sometimes, especially in junior high."

"Oh really?"

"Yes!"

"Like how." Lois crossed her arms.

"I didn't want to shave my legs so I could be in a kickline, you know. I was just tired of wearing jeans and long dresses all the time!" Ginger protested.

"And I didn't want to worry about you cutting yourself. Or growing up too fast."

"I would've had you supervise me. I was so happy when I reached high school and you finally gave in."

"Yeah, well, sooner or later, they all grow up. Besides, you had a steady boyfriend then, we didn't want him to know about your little problem."

"Well, thanks for at least taking pity on me then."

"Hey, I'm not heartless." Lois shrugged. "Anyway, Ging, what you need to remember is that I always struggled to do what I thought was best for you. I know I wasn't perfect, no parent is. I just tried to remember back when I was a kid. I promised myself I would never do the stuff that made me resent my own parents unless absolutely necessary, and I think I did a pretty good job with that. Now that you're older, you can be honest with yourself. If there was something you felt I really dropped the ball on, then you'll know that's a mistake you won't make with your own children. Does that help at all?"

"A little." Ginger explained, sipping her tea, steam from the mug dissipating into the air. "So what's it like being married?

"Couldn't describe it, Ging. But once you're there, you tell me."

"Sounds like a plan, Mom." Ginger lightly clacked her mug against her mother's, taking a longer sip. She wondered how much would really change in eleven months. For love, she knew too well, always begot change.

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Helga Pataki sat beneath the shade of an aged walnut tree, gnawing on the end of a worn pink pen as she contemplated her thoughts. Another of her poetry books was nearing completion, and she had to be certain that each installment was an improvement over the last. But lately, words were escaping her. She didn't even know what to say, what to think. How was it that she was thinking about him now more than she ever had as a child? "Arnold, you stupid football head!" Helga muttered, kicking her left heel into the ground. "Why couldn't you just keep holding me? Why do you always have to push for more? Ugh!" She couldn't take it. She hated this. She was just blaming him, and for what? It wasn't his fault that she was an idiot. He was only trying to build a normal relationship with her, wasn't he? But that was just the problem. She wasn't capable of that kind of love. She wasn't able to bring herself to love someone that fully. At least, not openly. She could unbind her heart only when she was certain no one else was around to see it.

But she had opened up to him, hadn't she? She had told him the truth about the marriage. She had told him about what she went through at home. She had revealed the fact that her love for him had been growing for over fifteen years. Wasn't that enough?

No, of course not. How could she have been so naïve? _Because you're a fool to the end, Helga._ She thought bitterly. _As usual, you've managed to sacrifice the few good things in your life to feed your worst parts. _It was mind boggling. Why did she keep doing these things to herself? _What the hell is missing with me?_ She cried, throwing the book onto the ground. Why can't I just enjoy the good things? _Because I've stopped allowing myself to feel them._ "Criminey, what the hell is missing with me!" Helga yelled, causing a flock of nearby birds to take flight. She clenched her left hand, digging her nails into her palms. She couldn't bear to think of him, it only brought back unpleasant memories of the terrible things they had said to each other. Things were hopeless, that's all there was to it. Her entire life, every time she had tried to help her and Arnold grow closer, something always came along to mess it up. _How could I have thought that this would be any kind of exception?_ How indeed. Love had a habit of making a fool out of her. And she was always so eager, so willing to be that fool. She would endure it time and again, if there was any chance of her desires becoming reality. The definition of insanity could be said to be doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. If that was indeed the case, then Helga considered herself to be completely out of her mind. And she didn't want to be sane.

Feeling inspired, she opened her book again and began to write furiously. _Arnold, my reluctant lover, how can I begin to right the wrongs we have trespassed against each other. Be still, my heart and soul, and listen to the words I dare not speak. . ._

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"We were in love." Arnold nodded, taking a very distraught Rhonda into his arms. "We are in love, that isn't what has changed. But let's be honest with ourselves. We aren't in the same place that we were when as a couple. Things have changed, for both of us."

"Those aren't necessarily changes for the better." Rhonda countered. "I am not the same person now that I was when I was with you. I like myself more when we're together. I like the person you helped me to become!"

"I like her too." Arnold smiled. "But you don't have to change just because we're not together. You should be the person you like for yourself, not for me."

"Don't talk as though our relationship is ending!" Rhonda cried.

"I never said it was." Arnold shook his head. "But the more we talk, the more obvious it's becoming to me that Helga and I have unfinished business."

"I know that." Rhonda whispered, cupping his face in her hands. "God, I know it. But Arnold, just because you're not finished with her doesn't mean that she isn't finished with you."

"And I know that." Arnold looked into Rhonda's glassy eyes, seeing tears, pain, loneliness.

"Do you even know if you could live with her, Arnold? I won't sit here and run her down. That's not going to help me. But be reasonable. You've already been married to her. It ended badly."

"But it didn't have to. It was my fault. I didn't give her what she needed."

"What was that?"

"A reason to stay."

"Was any reason needed?"

"Yes." Arnold insisted. "She didn't just need me to love her, she needed me to validate her."

"Did you?" Rhonda asked.

"She asked me to. Physically, emotionally. But I was too angry. I was so wrapped up in my own feelings that I couldn't even see hers. I betrayed the uneasy peace that the two of us had worked so hard to create. And I knew what I was doing. I was just so hurt, I wanted to hurt her back."

"If there's one thing human beings have excelled at as a species, it's hurting one another." Rhonda nodded, beginning to get a much fuller perspective on the unending mystery that was Helga Pataki. "And when we were kids, Helga sure personified that. Why would you even be attracted to her after everything she put you through?"

"Because it's not the same as when we were kids." Arnold insisted. "She's not the same girl that she was then."

"She's exactly the same!" Rhonda yelled.

"No she isn't! Not if you really know her. She isn't that mean."

"That's not what I've heard from Gerald."

Arnold was taken aback, not wanting to think about his best friend, a position he wasn't even sure the young man still held. "Yeah, well, Gerald and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now."

"He was only trying to save you the pain, Arnold. Helga can't be reasoned with, you know that." Rhonda tried to soften her beloved, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"I don't believe that, Rhonda. As bad as she can be, she's real. She loves me."

"And now you love her back."

"It's not just that, it's, well, when we were together, and we weren't fighting, when we could just talk, or just sit quietly, well then it felt right. The way we fit into each other's arms felt natural."

"That's an image I really can't get my mind to conjure up."

"You might not think it," Arnold admitted, "but Helga can be really sweet and affectionate."

"You're right, I don't think it." Rhonda retorted.

"Hey, trust me on this one. Come on, I'm the one that fell for her, right? And you know me, I don't go in for the cold fish types."

"Well if she is warm to you, it certainly doesn't show to the rest of us."

"Yeah, I know. Helga doesn't really like to let people see her softer side. But it's there, you've got to trust me on that one. And it's good, really good."

"So, I'm almost afraid to ask, but. . .where does this leave us?" Rhonda asked. "You love her more, don't you?"

"It's not like that." Arnold shook his head. "I just. . .love her different. Different doesn't have to mean more or less."

"But it usually does. Sooner or later, one of us is going to lose you. And you're making me certain that it's me who will be left behind."

"Don't talk like that, Rhonda. It isn't over yet. You know that I love you. I will always love you."

"They're just words." Rhonda wept.

"No they aren't! Rhonda, how can you think I would ever forget how we found each other when we were alone? How we saved each other from that loneliness? How we completed each other? I would never forget that. I love you, Rhonda, come what may. And even if you're right, even if my heart tells me that in the end, it's Helga I need to be with, well, you'll still always have a place in my heart. I can't promise you that it will be the biggest piece, or even the best piece, but it sure as hell will be your piece. I swear that nothing can ever change that. Nothing can ever take away what we've had together!"

Arnold was panting, feeling emotionally exhausted, out of breath. Rhonda did not answer him, only stared at his eyes, as though measuring his worth. "It's not over between us, Rhonda." He whispered.

_What are you letting him do to you, sweetheart? _Rhonda thought to herself as she stared into his beautiful green eyes. _Be strong. Make a clean break_. _Let him go. If he really loves you, then he'll come back to you. _But she couldn't. Tears streamed down her face. _Letting go of him is the one thing I might never be able to do. _She kissed him, softly. Delicate lips barely touching his own. It was as though she were kissing him for the first time. Shy and tentative, uncertain. It was the most innocent kiss she had ever shared, and in a manner, her best. Arnold followed her lead, gently taking her arms at the elbow, lowering them from his face. His hands sought her own, and he clutched them tightly, interlocking their fingers.

Rhonda pulled herself away, her eyes full or fears. "Please don't love me anymore, Arnold. You know that you belong with her."

"Just because you love someone doesn't mean you can live with them."

"You know what I mean." Rhonda squeezed their hands tighter. "I love you, Arnold. I will always love you. But only a fool can't acknowledge when a battle is lost. She took you from me."

"Then take me back!" Arnold pleaded.

She looked at him, saw the passion in his eyes, the plea for a second chance. _Let him go, Rhonda_. "No." She whispered.

"Rhonda. . ."

"God help me, I can't let you go. I can't let you go, Arnold." She cried.

"Then don't."

"Take me." Rhonda said with more courage than she felt.

"What?" Arnold's eyes went wide.

"Take me. I'm not a fool, Arnold. If Helga comes back to you, I can't win. I know that. And I accept it. But if you truly love me the way that you say you do, then give me something that she can't take."

"But, Rhonda, I don't want to take advantage of you." Arnold shook his head. "Under the circumstances, I don't feel that it would be right."

"Yes, it is." Rhonda explained. "I know you haven't been with her, you told me so yourself. I'm still a virgin myself. At least we can give each other that part of ourselves. Even if you stay with her, she can't take this away from me. If you meant what you said, then this way a part of us will always be in each other."

"Are you sure this is what you really want?" Arnold asked hesitantly, still not convinced.

"I want this more than anything. I want us to share what we should have so long ago." Rhonda pressed herself against him.

"But this could ruin you! I know how your world works. No one wants a trophy wife who isn't a virgin."

"I will never be anyone's trophy wife, Arnold. If I must marry another, it will be someone of my own choosing, not my parents. I don't care if they cut me off. My life, and my body belong to me and those I choose to share them with. No one else."

"But Rhonda-"

"Shush." Rhonda silenced him with a kiss, a bit less fragile than the last one. "It's my decision. Besides, you owe me, after all this time. Now, I insist that you take me to your room and make love to me." Rhonda purred, playing with his hair, coiling the strands on his forehead between her middle and index fingers. "What do you say to that?"

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_Author's Notes_

So, here we are again. This was another good, solid chapter. Everything went the way I wanted it to. I was feeling good this week. I have a new job starting today, the government approved my unemployment compensation and released my checks, and last night I went to see "The Weather Man," which is just a phenomenal film. Yeah, life is good. Now, I just need to keep up this level of writing every week. My pre-reader predicts this chapter will hit the record for reviews. I really don't know about _that_, but there's no way of knowing.

Before I get into any of last week's reviews, I want to take the time to talk about the Hey Arnold Fanfiction Awards that Jarel Kortan (author of the photograph) is trying to put together. I feel this is very important, as it allows the whole community to come together and make it known what they feel is the best work. This contest would have a plethora of categories to keep it from being a situation where one story takes everything, and I'm in full support of that. He's still hammering out the details, but I strongly urge you to send him a quick e-mail about what you're looking for. I'm hoping that he'll come up with a complete category listing soon so that a nomination process can begin. Remember, this is for everyone, not just the authors. Every vote will be counted when we get there. So again, please, visit his profile page and send him an e-mail. If you can spare a wee bit of time, offer to help him. Let's keep Hey Arnold alive and popular here at FFN!

Okay, let's get to some of these reviews. Now, I am going to do the best job possible, but please don't be upset if I don't go on at great lengths. I don't want to make the notes as long as the story! I didn't answer these in any particular order. Here we go…

Kitsunedream, yet another new reviewer. Welcome aboard! I'm glad to see you've been following the story all along. Helga did appear in the story once before, on the roof of a building, waving at a traffic copter. I forget which chapter, and I'm just too lazy to look right now. Sorry! I've written Helga here as someone who knows she's in a bind. She's trying to take a look at herself and decide if going back to Arnold is the right thing to do. She is self-conscious, she knows that she is not beautiful or attractive, and she's aware of it. It really bothers her. And that only aggravates her more, because she believes that her womanhood is based on more than looks, so it _shouldn't _upset her, and yet it does. I'm sorry that you once had to vie for the affections of someone against another woman. I've really never been one for that. I'm glad that you arrived at the conclusion that you did. It's the right one. Arnold is always thoughtful to a fault, and I wanted that to show in his relationships with women other than Helga. Arnold and Rhonda's relationship is built partly on passion, but also need. They were both very alone when they got together, each seeing something in the other they had never seen when they were younger. They were very good together, but eventually, Rhonda broke up with him to keep her parents happy. Rhonda never fell out of love with Arnold. Arnold still cares for her deeply, but his subsequent relationship with Helga has deeply complicated matters. Only time will tell how the scales tip. Arnold and Nadine—I'll reveal why Nadine broke up with him in the next chapter. That's going to be huge, and given what I already did with Arnold & Rhonda this chapter, I didn't want to do too much all at once. Keep reading! Nadine's relationship with Arnold was sweet, but something happened to change it forever. You'll soon know. You're very astute about these things, your observations are wonderful! You really nailed what this story is all about, and I hope that you'll continue on the journey. The discovery of what love is, what it means to love, and how we relate to one another is the whole point. You're very perceptive! Arnold and Helga do go together very well, they can fit. But as I mentioned, just because you love someone doesn't mean you can live with them. Whether they end up together or not will depend upon the decisions they make. I don't feel that you're dictating my story, I feel you're presenting some very valid thoughts. And I hope that all of this helps to smash through your own writer's block. It can be very difficult, I know. I hope that you'll review again soon!

What happened J.A.M, you were number two this week after all! You've got to get up earlier in the morning! I tried to bring Olga into focus a bit last week. Helga isn't going to be telling Olga off, her sister just isn't giving her much of a hard time at the moment. Regarding Ginger's column from last week, I don't have trouble with my VCR, except that I have 3, and usually manage to forget one. For the record, Daylight Savings Time is supposed to have a major change in 2007, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. What happened between Arnold and Helga will be revealed in the end. I wrote it many months ago. It's a huge ten page scene, and it's some of my absolute best work, IMO. Keep reading. Yes, Lor is in the story now, so there is crossover with The Weekenders. Moreover, it's a crossover combining elements of my fanfic "Awakening" and "Time Capsule," written by Didjargo and myself. It's not that you can't follow without reading those, just everything will tie together if you read them all. Will Arnold give in? Keep reading! "Ceremony Of Innocence" is a big undertaking for me as a one-shot. I'm a little nervous about it. But I'm committed to it now. I don't know when I'll pause this story to write that one, some time in December. I'll let you know. I'll save the Ginger poll stuff for last.

DarthRoden, glad to see my story excites you so. Keep reading man, it'll only get better!

Roxynomekop, I'm glad to hear that my last chapter enchanted you. I hope this one did just as much. I try to put something in it for everyone, and also to keep the story moving. I am recovered from the lackluster chapter 19, mercifully. Keep those stars in your eyes!

Glad to have you back, ahhelga. I know we don't get to talk much. I feel that the story has now progressed enough to support a present-tense Helga. Also, it's kind of unfair that everyone is talking about her but she's only in it through flashbacks. The poor girl deserves a chance to defend herself. Slowly, the story of what happened with her and Arnold will unfold. You're not the first person to mention the Courtney scenes. Writing for her character is really enjoyable, because she's just so different. I like the process of turning her into a real person. I adore her voice, and I'm trying to show that she's doing her best to keep things together. But she's only human. She needs help. I'm glad that you liked Helga's writing. I tried to show things from her side, make her unsure of herself, as she should be, after things got messed up with Arnold. Lor MacQuarrie is lifted from "The Weekenders," so I guess she's not related to the ones that you know, but it is something of a freaky coincidence. Thanks for telling me I'm so talented. And I know, I write like a girl. What can I say? Women fascinate me. It probably all ties into the fact that I need a good woman! Thanks for voting in the Ginger poll!

Hello again, Samantha. I'm glad to see that you've kept coming back! So, you read all of "The Sweet Hereafter" and didn't leave a review? Naughty! The upcoming "Ceremony Of Innocence" follows that and "Say You Will," so I'm glad you're caught up. Here's hoping that it will astound you. You sure hit on the point of my putting the Ginger columns in this story to begin with! They're there just as much for me as they are for you. They put Arnold and Helga's problems into perspective. But they also break up the drama by giving both of us a breather. Some of this stuff is as difficult to write as it is for you all to read, trust me. I will continue to update IG until the break, and I'll try to end with a good cliffhanger. It's also likely that I'll put up some kind of trailer for the next parts of the story during the hiatus. Footage from the earlier trailers that haven't appeared in the story yet will, I assure you. We're far from done! Good luck with your studies, thanks for voting, and may you find your long-lost work ethic!

Acosta perez jose Ramiro, nice observation about Olga, Arnold, and Helga. Overall, Helga has trouble relating to people, which is really the underlying issue. Glad you like the columns as well. I feel they really make the story stand out as something new, fresh, and exciting. Dodie's roll in the story is largely support for Courtney, and Courtney plays a huge part in the ending. As for Miranda, you don't think I've forgotten about her, do you? The role of Miss Killgallen will come in time. Interesting what you said about Arnold and Rhonda. As a Christian, I don't believe in sex before marriage either, but I'm writing this story to be realistic. I don't really want to tackle those kind of issues. As I lamented over politics, I like to keep them, as well as religion, out of entertainment. Sex does factor into this story, but as I'm sure you can see, it's about the emotions rather than the physical actions. Oh, and I plugged the fanfic awards, so let's see what happens!

Monster #43, a first time reviewer! Welcome! I'm glad that you enjoy the stuff I do with Ginger. I can assure you that the overall stories will come together in the end, which is where the relevance comes in. The actual Ginger storyline is minimal. Expect her to do a lot of angsting about getting married. The rest of the stuff will be about Courtney trying to find Helga, which is where these characters really connect to the main story. Did that help? It's hard to explain things without spoiling everything! I'm sorry that you didn't like Helga's point of view. She's just feeling down on herself right now because of what happened with Arnold. She's lost some self-confidence. Right now, she's trying to find herself. She's also looking for something to blame, which is why she's complaining about sex. She has trouble with being intimate with people, physically and emotionally, and she knows it's ruining her life.

Rhfntc, thanks for your vote. See below for my conclusions on that! I fully agree, Ginger really makes this story. I just wanted to do something that no one else has done before, and I felt that the characters from that show were perfect—ATBG, like HA, is about people being people. I'm glad that you appreciate my take on Helga's own writing. She is so much different than Ginger, so I had to make sure that came across. More Arnold and Helga interaction will be here, don't worry. They're the main characters! Ditto for Arnold and Rhonda, I have to keep fleshing out their relationship. Rhonda is one of the absolute most important characters. As you can see from this chapter, she's not taking any prisoners when it comes to fixing things with Arnold! Kiss that writer's block goodbye!

Laurel, thanks for coming back again. Another person who loves Ginger. I can no longer imagine where this story would be without her! You describe her so well, too! It seems that you're really identifying with Helga. I'm sorry if you're having a tough time in real life, but I do hope that being able to identify with Helga is helping you with your own struggles. I feel that it's important to explain who Helga is otherwise the audience can't ever feel like they know her. Rhonda's plan will bit her in the ass? I don't know, it might. The outcome depends just as much on her as it does on Arnold. Helga does maintain a tight hold on Arnold and always will, but that's because Helga and Arnold bonded in an extraordinary manner before things fell through. However, Arnold and Rhonda have a deep past, and they also have a connection that hasn't faded over time. Rhonda's case is not hopeless. However, it is probably not unfair to say that the quest for Arnold's heart is Helga's to lose. Arnold has no choice but to hurt one of them eventually. But both women left him, so it's more a case of which one he won't take back. I hope you come back next week!

Okay, I think that covers everyone. Man, that was a lot. I'm tired. As for Ginger, I think it's safe to say that the results of the poll overwhelmingly state that people would like to see more of her, so to that end, I worked in a small part with her in this chapter. I hope that you all like it. I decided to include Helga again as well.

Now, it's time for me to relax and take a little downtime. Let me know what you all think! I'll see you next week! Until then, send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

11/14/05

3:37AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	22. Live To Tell

"Live To Tell"

By the time Arnold and Helga returned to the Sunset Arms that night, there seemed to be a significant improvement in their rapport. Some sort of understanding was undeniably blossoming between the two, and after Arnold's defense of his wife in front of her domineering father, it was hard to imagine things being much better between the newlyweds, given the circumstances. Arnold seemed to have nearly forgotten the unscrupulous circumstances under which he had entered this marriage, while Helga appeared to be much more open. She was not quite to the point where she was telling her life story to Arnold, but she was not openly confrontational, and that was saying a lot, given Helga's normal personality.

It was late when the two of them finally arrived back at the boarding house, and Arnold opened the front door quietly after turning the key. Some of the residents were light sleepers, and he knew that if they made a racket coming in the door, it was bound to catch the unwanted attention of someone on the second floor. Arnold motioned Helga to follow him inside. He gently shut the door and stepped out of his shoes, then watched Helga follow suit.

The lower floor of the old building was quiet and mostly dark, save for a nightlight in the kitchen. Arnold walked into the dimly lit room, illuminating it further by opening the refrigerator, bathing the room in its light. "Orange juice?" Arnold whispered, removing a glass pitcher.

"Sure." Helga said, sitting in one of the worn chairs at the table. Arnold left the fridge open and pulled two tall glasses out of a cupboard, then poured the orange beverage, putting the pitcher away and basking the room in darkness once more. The nightlight that remained provided less light than a candle, and as Arnold sat himself down at the table across from his wife, he realized he could only barely make out her outline.

"Here you go." Arnold carefully slid a glass across the table to her, which Helga found with little effort. Arnold briefly wondered just how good her night vision was.

"Thanks." Helga took a deep sip, the sweet yet lightly tart flavor tantalizing her tongue. She crossed her legs, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Hey Arnold?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about tonight." Helga sighed. "With Bob, I mean. I didn't realize he was going to be such a jerk. Don't get me wrong, Jimmy Stewart he isn't. But even I didn't think that he would be such a pompous ass, given the circumstances."

"Don't worry about it." Arnold reassured her.

"I don't." Helga explained. "He doesn't have any hold on me, he never has. He gave up that right a long time ago." She scoffed. "I just don't appreciate the way he was talking to you."

"Well, I didn't much care for the way he was addressing _you_." Arnold chuckled.

"Yeah, he never was much of a gentleman." Helga continued to drink her orange juice. "Wasn't much of a father either. It's not that he's all bad, it's just. . .like he only assumes the roll of 'dad' when it suits him. It was never a full time job for him. Or even part time. More like a hobby. His only real interest was in Olga."

Arnold noticed that Helga did not speak her sister's name with the usual contempt she reserved for the other woman. Perhaps a little progress was being made, whether Helga noticed it or not. "That must've been difficult."

"You have no idea." Helga shook her head. "To this day, I never really figured out why my parents never took an interest in me when I was little. I mean, before I became the little pain in the ass I've been for so long now."

"You mean you haven't always been this way?" Arnold asked in mock surprise, prompting a glowering look from Helga.

"You're treading on some pretty thin ice tonight, Football Head."

"Sorry. Must be some leftover adrenaline from that run in with your father."

Helga ignored the bait and shot him a look that made Arnold aware in no uncertain terms that she was keeping her eyes on him. "I'm feeling generous tonight, Arnoldo."

"Glad to hear it. And don't worry about your dad."

"I already told you, I'm not. You just watch. Olga will come calling in a day or two about how Bob wants to apologize. After she and Miriam drive him crazy, anyway. And then everything will be back to the way it always is. See, it's already forgotten."

Arnold nodded. "Then setting the subject of your father aside, let's talk about us."

"What about us?" Helga arched her eyebrow.

"What are you planning on doing in the fall, after this whole being married thing is over?"

"I haven't really given it a lot of thought." Helga admitted. "I figured I would start applying to some colleges again. I kind of stopped in the middle of my senior year. I probably won't make it in time for the fall, but I should be able to enroll in the spring session, at least. That's a good enough start. What about you?"

"I got accepted to UCLA, so I was thinking about heading down to the Golden State a little early, maybe take in some of California."

"Oh really?" Helga smiled. "You never really struck me as the California type."

"Me either, but there's a first time for everything."

"So when are you leaving?"

"Sometime in August." Arnold explained. "Maybe spend a week or two vacationing before classes start up again."

"Sounds cozy." Helga stated.

"Cozy will have to wait until I see what the dorm situation is." Arnold chuckled.

"After rooming with me?" Helga chuckled. "Somehow, I doubt you'll have too many complaints."

"Maybe not." Arnold said thoughtfully, giving Helga a coy look. "So why me?"

"Why you?" Helga repeated the question, not sure what he was talking about.

"Why me? What made you decide that I was the guy to drag off to Vegas?"

Helga pursed her lips, not sure what to make of the question. It reeked of bait, something to trap her into revealing things she really didn't want to. On the other hand, this was Arnold. He wasn't normally one for interrogation. Regardless of that, she owed him something. She couldn't very well refuse to answer his questions, it would come across as cruel and uncaring, two things she didn't want him to think about her any longer. Things were going too well between them. She would hate to undo all of that by coming off evasive. Nevertheless, now just somehow felt like the wrong time to explain herself properly. "You're the one who dragged me off, bucko. Don't forget that." Helga reminded him. It was a lie, of course, but one Arnold couldn't really prove. By his own admission, he remembered nothing of the night in question, Helga had seen to that. So for all he knew, he really could have been the one to sweep her off her feet. He would, of course, have serious doubts, and forever be right. But proving it would be damned difficult. A battle he couldn't really win.

Arnold opened his mouth as if to say something, but Helga interrupted him by standing up. She crossed the distance to the kitchen sink and placed her empty glass inside. "I'm going to bed." She said flatly.

"I'll be up in a minute." Arnold responded, but the words were absent, devoid of the life that had been lying behind them mere moments earlier. _Why do you always have to be so difficult, Helga? _Arnold wondered to himself as he too placed his glass in the sink and quietly followed his wife up to the attic room.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_The weather's turning cold again. I don't know why I should be surprised. You know what Mark Twain said about New England? "If you don't like the weather, wait around a few minutes, it'll change." Truer words were never spoken. I guess this one's for all my friends who live in other parts of the country. Hi, how are you? Let me tell you a little about what it's like to live up here in the Northeast. You get the full gamut of weather. Rain, sleet, snow, hail, freezing rain, you name it, we get it. It gets unbearably hot in the summer and we freeze in the winter. Spring and Autumn are brisk. We never really know what to expect from them. For the last five years, we haven't really had a spring. The winter would cling right into the beginning of May, giving us some unbelievably frosty nights. And then you'd come out and the temperature would be eighty-six degrees. What happened to those beautiful days when it was in the seventies? We don't get many of those anymore. Now if I step out onto my back porch at night, I can see my breath. A few weeks ago, we had the first killing frost. Winter again. It's not that I hate winter, it's pretty hard to live in New England if you do! But the problem with winter is that once it's here, it takes a very long time to go away. Connecticut doesn't have mild winters. Worse, we're on the border. This isn't the extreme north, so we don't get as much snow as say Maine or Vermont. But we do get a lot of it. And being above New York, the temperature has a tendency to hover around the freezing mark, which can make the roads really treacherous. Once or twice, I've ended up doing a 360 on a back road. That's never fun. This is the time of year when people want to run out and buy four wheel drives. I've never really felt the need for one. They go great in the snow, but if you grow up here, you learn to drive in that pretty fast. And ice? Forget it. I don't care what you're driving on. When you've got no traction, then you're just spinning four tires instead of two. Not exactly good odds in my book. What's with those commercials anyway? They always show these people driving up mountains and under lakes and making vertical ascents. Who are they kidding?_

_Maybe that's the whole point of advertising. It's just there to get us to buy into something that's essentially a lie. What a travesty! And the worst part is that we fall for it! We buy the stupidest products, do the lamest stuff, all because we think it's going to improve our chances of making it with the opposite sex. Right. When did we become so gullible? _

_But the worst part is that I'm not any less guilty than anyone else. Goodness knows that I've bought the strangest outfits because I thought they made me look more attractive. Changed my hair, bought ridiculous makeup, tortured myself. . .and for what? A lighter wallet and the usual disappointment. Filling the void with a bunch of nonsense. That's not the way to happiness. Why do we always think that? Why are we always so willing to believe that there's some quick fix to our problems, some product that we can buy to make all the bad things go away? Why do we always think it's so easy? Is it a basic need of ours? Do we need to make our lives easier, more manageable? Heh, do I even need to ask? Of course we do. But why? What is it that compels us to seek these meaningless forms of instant gratification, these chasings after the wind? Why can't we wait for results in life anymore? Is this what we've become? This society of fast food and easy answers? Why do we have to make our lives so convenient?_

_This isn't the way life was meant to be, I know it. Life isn't about easy answers. We weren't made to have everything handed to us without any work. Life is supposed to be an adventure. It's supposed to be about hard work, about making ourselves better people. But now we've lost that edge. We don't work as hard as we were meant to. We have machines, we have other people, we have an entire system in place to keep us on our lazy butts as much as possible. I should know. I got on the scale before my shower this morning and almost screamed. Okay, maybe it's not that bad. Maybe it's only a couple of pounds. But it's still paunch I don't need. I'm supposed to be losing weight so I can squeeze (or maybe I should be pour) myself into my wedding dress. But I've been so busy lately, I've been frequenting the fast food joints lately. "Making the rounds," as my mother used to say. A few weeks of that and not exercising, and it isn't pretty. Fortunately, I think I'll be okay. All I've got to do is watch what I eat and spend a little time at the gym. This time. I'm still young. But what am I going to do when I'm middle aged._

_This is supposed to be the best part of my life. I'm in my twenties, my physical peak. My metabolism will never be better. Why does that make me nervous instead of reassuring me? If I'm at my peak now, what am I going to be like when I'm middle-aged? Am I going to have to watch everything I eat? Am I going to have to make a choice between food and my figure? _

_Okay, I had to take a time out there. I'm taking myself way too seriously again. I mean, who am I kidding! I'm way too young to be obsessing over my figure! I'm not even that kind of girl! But I'm doing it anyway. Just goes to show that I'm not immune to the pitfalls of our society. I can get just as tripped up as anybody else. But I suppose that's what makes me human. After all, a big part of that is making mistakes, right? We all make mistakes._

_Does anyone else out there feel like I lost my point somewhere around here? Is this less of a column and more of a diary entry? Wouldn't be the first time. For some reason, I've never had a problem sharing all this stuff about myself with everyone out there. Maybe it's just good for me. I need to be able to let all of this stuff out. It sure as heck beats bottling it all up inside. It's cheaper than seeing a therapist, too. Maybe it's just my way of trying to cope with, well, everything I_ _guess. There's no easy way through life, you just have to go with it. Roll with the punches, and watch out for the stumbling blocks you know affect you the worst. Me, I think my biggest problem is that I'm not good at saying no. And sometimes, that means I let people walk all over me. People I don't like, or would just rather not deal with. But because I can be so non-confrontational, I turn my world upside-down. And sometimes, my anger can become so self-righteous that I might not recognize that maybe this isn't the best time to be preaching a message. Hey, I'm not perfect. I've been known to serve a detention or two. And then there was that whole time I got arrested in the seventh grade, but maybe that's a story I'd better leave under wraps. I wouldn't want people thinking less of me!_

_But the weather is turning cold again. Time to get your winter coat out of the attic and put it on. Otherwise, we make ourselves susceptible to the wind and all its fury. _

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"It happened a couple of years ago." Nadine nodded, licking her ice cream. "It was at night. I remember it all so clearly. There was fog, thick fog. I couldn't really see the stars. It was overcast, and the air was heavy. There had been a big thunderstorm earlier that evening. I had come down to the park to catch some mosquitoes. There aren't really many places in the city that have enough grass to support them, but the park always has a healthy supply, because the grass is taller there."

"You sure are dedicated to your hobbies, Nadine. Weren't you worried about getting bitten?"

"It's not really a big deal. I was wearing long sleeves and jeans. I probably would've gotten a few bites, but that sort of thing just goes with the territory. It's nothing a little cortisone wouldn't have fixed. Anyway, I caught quite a few in the jar. I remember it had a special paper lid that would let air in but keep my mosquitoes from escaping. I had to fumble with it a few times, because one of my hands was occupied with the flashlight. Eventually I got everything together and started making my way home. But it's a long walk. I cut through the little tunnel that crosses under the stone bridge. Someone was there. I remember he was smoking. I never really got a good look at him. I had a flashlight, but I didn't really want to flash it in his face, I figured that would only get him angry. I knew I'd already been seen, so I just kept walking. Only he grabbed me."

"He grabbed you?" Sid's eyebrows shot up.

Nadine twisted the fabric of her dress between two fingers, searching for something to say. How did one explain something like this, anyway? "Yes."

Sid gulped, no longer feeling sure of himself. He had a pretty good idea where this conversation was headed, and he suddenly felt uncertain if he was the one that Nadine should be telling these things to. "W-what happened?"

"What usually happens to young girls and that situation. I don't remember everything. It was dark. . .and confusing."

"But, how did you-"

"I don't really know." Nadine shook her head, finishing her ice cream. "It was almost like. . .surreal. I never really got that good a look at him, it was very dark. He didn't hurt me."

"What do you mean he didn't hurt you!" Sid roared, then lowered his voice. "Somebody raped you Nadine." He pleaded. "How could he have possibly hurt you any worse?"

"I don't know." Nadine sighed, looking away from him. "It was over kind of quickly. I don't remember being threatened, or getting slapped around or anything. He just grabbed me and did it. . .and then he left."

Sid couldn't keep his mouth from hanging open in shock. This didn't make any sense. Why would a rapist not threaten his victim, tell her not to scream, threaten to kill her? And then the realization dawned on him, and he felt as though he were going to be sick. "You didn't resist him." Sid whispered.

"No." Nadine's voice was just as quiet, the hint of a tear in the corner of her eye. "I didn't."

"But why?"

"I don't know." Nadine kept shaking her head, not wanting to go down this road. "I guess I just thought it would be over quicker if I didn't struggle. It didn't even hurt that much. Like I said, it was almost like. . .like I was watching it happen. I was disconnected. I remember afterwards, just lying on the damp ground, not moving. I didn't cry. I didn't do anything. I just lay there. I don't even know for how long. Finally I got up, fumbled around for my jar of mosquitoes. It wasn't broken. I picked it up and walked home like nothing had happened."

"You never told anyone?"

"No."

"How could you just carry that around with you!"

"I just did. I broke up with Arnold the next day because. . .I didn't feel connected to him anymore. And I couldn't tell him. He would never understand."

"Arnold! He's the most understanding guy in the world! He would do everything he could to help the cops find that creep and put him where he belongs."

"With what?" Nadine asked. "It's not like I did a rape kit, Sid. Even if I had, I never got a good look at the guy, like I said. It wouldn't be easy to track him down. And for what? So the whole world could know what happened to me? So everyone could feel sorry for me? Whisper behind my back? I just wanted to get on with my life!" Nadine choked.

"You call this getting on?" Sid lowered his voice again, taking Nadine's hand. "Staying alone all the time? Afraid to even have an ordinary relationship? Withdrawing from everyone?"

"It's not your concern."

"I'm making it my concern! Nadine. . .I had no idea you had been through something like this. It's not fair. No one should have to experience something so horrible."

"It doesn't matter anymore." Nadine sighed. "It was a long time ago. It's happened, and nothing can change that. All I can do is move on."

"But you haven't."

"I'm trying!" Nadine yelled. "Why do you think I'm here with you, Sid! Why?"

"I don't know."

"Because I like you! Because I thought that maybe you would understand!"

"Arnold would have understood." Sid protested.

"Arnold would have made it impossible for me to forget." Nadine tried to explain. "It's not that Arnold isn't a great guy. It's that he's too great. I don't want to think about these things anymore, Sid."

Sid didn't immediately respond. He opened and closed his mouth several times, starting to say something, but each time nothing came out. "Didn't you ever see a counselor?" He said at length.

"I'm perfectly capable of reliving things on my own, thanks." Nadine shot that line of questioning down. "I don't need someone to hold my hand through it."

"Nadine. . ."

"This was a mistake." Nadine began to walk away from her date. "I never should have told you this."

Sid hesitated only a moment before calling after her. "I think that you had to tell someone! It's been eating away at you for so long."

Nadine turned at his comment, walking back. "You don't know me." She said flatly.

"Only a little."

"You know nothing about who I really am."

"But I want to know." Sid gave her a look that oozed sincerity. She felt certain that this was probably the look he normally reserved to add to his conquests. But this clearly wasn't about sex to him. He seemed on edge, desperate. He was scared for her. Worried about her. Could she really be so cold to someone who only wanted to help her?

Nadine fixed him in her eyes, her face expressionless, betraying nothing. Finally, she turned around and slowly began to walk away from the boy once more. Fifteen steps away, she called after him. "Well are you coming or what?" Sid blinked twice, then began walking after her. He slowed his pace once he caught up, falling into step immediately behind the blonde.

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Something inside of Helga Pataki was gnawing away at her soul. Moreso than usual. It was more than the usual longings she had for a certain young man with an oblong head. It stretched beyond the usual pangs of unrequited love and boundless self-doubt. Something just felt. . .wrong. She certainly felt uneasy, as though something were being plotted against her even as she was pouring her heart and soul out to the pad she was writing on. But what? At this stage in her life, she had few enemies, aside from herself.

Helga dropped her pen, getting a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her insides were reeling. She could feel a dull ache spreading throughout her entire body. Her head began to throb, her stomach churned. She ached in places she didn't know she had. She felt as though some invisible force was trying to wrench her very soul from her body. Palms sweating, mind racing, she somehow managed to dig into her pocket and locate that most wondrous facet of modern day technology, the cell phone. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe there was still time to prevent the unthinkable from happening. Her entire body shaking, Helga forced herself to concentrate and dial the number she knew so well.

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Courtney Gripling generally poured the balsamic vinaigrette over her romaine hearts and carrot shavings, the meager yet adequate salad that accompanied her sandwich. Deirdre watched her with a kind of modest fascination, as though there were something to be learned from the manner in which Courtney applied dressing to her salad.

"Courtney?" Deirdre asked as she opened her own packet of ranch dressing and began decorating her own meal.

"Yes?"

"I've always wanted to ask someone this, but I was afraid of feeling stupid. So I was wondering if you could tell me about this."

"About what?" Courtney smiled, always feeling good when someone needed her advice or explanations.

"About salad. How come this lettuce is so different than what I get when I normally eat out? The leaves are so big, and the taste different."

"What kind of lettuce is the other kind?"

"You know, like the stuff they used to give us when we were in school?"

"Oh," Courtney laughed innocently, feeling like an older sister to her secretary. "That's iceberg lettuce, Deirdre dear. This is romaine. You see, iceberg lettuce is made mostly of water. Romaine is much crisper and heartier."

"I see." Deirdre responded, blushing. She couldn't believe she had been so naïve.

"Between you and I," Courtney crossed her legs, taking a dainty bite of her salad, "I happen to prefer iceberg. Romaine can be a bit overpowering. Still, most chefs swear by romaine. But I'm sure you have things you would rather ask me about than lettuce."

"There's so much stuff I've wanted to talk to you about ever since junior high school!" Deirdre stated animatedly. She was vigorously stabbing away at her salad, her hands trying to work as fast as her mind. "But we always seemed to move in different circles."

"Yes, well, I don't think that's the case anymore. I believe we've both moved to a place where we're about equal."

"Oh, never!" Deirdre protested. "You're in charge of this whole publishing house! I could never pretend to do anything that big!"

"Don't sell yourself short, Deirdre. If there's one thing that life has taught me over the past seven years, it's that you never know what you can do until you put your mind to it. Take me for instance. This wasn't really my dream, my goal in life. But after daddy lost all of our money, I knew I had to do something when I got out of school. Something to make my family name mean something again. It was expected of me! But this idea, it came to me because of our mutual friend."

"Ginger!" Deirdre put her fork down, her eyes opening wide.

"That's her." Courtney smiled. "It worked for both of us. The girl was just waiting to be discovered, you know. People had been telling her that she should be writing professionally for some time. So I borrowed some venture capital and decided to do it myself. I took on some other small-time writers, and, well, here I am."

"How do you like it?"

"I don't hate it." Courtney sighed. "But truthfully, I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

"You shouldn't say that!" Deirdre protested, picking up her sandwich. "You're doing a great job, Courtney. No one could dare say any differently."

"But I don't feel like I'm doing a great job. This isn't what I'm cut out to do. I was raised to be the daughter of a rich man from birth! Do you know what that means?"

"Um, you never had to worry about money?"

"It's more than that. It means that my principal duty was to look fabulous, marry someone powerful and influential, and preside over important social functions designed to strengthen our family's place in the pecking order. After we lost it all, we had to start all over again." Courtney's eyes took on a distant look, as though she were slipping away into unpleasant memories that she couldn't set aside. "I don't know if we'll ever get back to the way we used to be. I'm making money, slowly but surely. But it's only barely enough to cover expenses. Sometimes not even that. I'm treading water, which is a terrible place to be. My accountant has a saying. 'Twice nothing is still nothing.' That describes my checkbook pretty well lately, both with the business and me personally."

"I'm sorry, Courtney." Deirdre sighed. "But things will pick up. You always know how to bounce back! Sooner or later, you'll have a great opportunity, just you see! And then you'll have some huge bestsellers with the name of this company, and your stock will soar, and, oh, I just know it's going to happen!"

Courtney didn't respond, only stared into the eyes of her receptionist, who was also becoming a confidant and something of a friend. There were so few people that she could turn to these days. Ginger was wonderful, but the girl had a life of her own, and she didn't want to hinder her writing. Rhonda still stood by her, and was always responding to her requests for more money. Even though Rhonda lived across the country and they hadn't met in person in years, and then only on vacation. But she was a great shopping companion and they each had similar tastes. She was also easier to talk to than Miranda had been, but Miranda was someone who had more or less fallen away from Courtney after the Gripling financial assets had been wiped out. Sadly, Miranda was not the only one who had gone. Courtney soon learned who her real friends were in the weeks that followed what she liked to refer to as her fall from grace. They were not many in number, but she had persevered anyway.

Courtney absently picked up her own sandwich and began eating. "You're right, Deirdre. Thank you. I was losing some of my patented Courtney spirit."

"I told you! I'll stick with you Courtney, no matter what. I promise."

"Thank you." Courtney smiled back, then lifted her eyebrows. "Deirdre, I have an idea. What do you say the two of us knock off early and do some shopping?"

Deirdre's sharp intake of breath was all the response Courtney needed. "You mean it!"

"I've got a lot on my mind." Courtney nodded. "When I want to clear it, I go shopping!"

Deirdre nearly choked on her lunch at the prospect of going shopping with Courtney Gripling. "Oh, I'll go get ready as soon as we're done here!"

Courtney nodded, resuming her own meal. She had so many balls in the air, she felt that taking her mind off of them was the only way she could possibly maintain the balance.

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Arnold couldn't believe that he had allowed himself to forget the feeling of holding Rhonda Lloyd in his arms and knowing that she was his. Rhonda was a powerful girl who wasn't the type to give herself away so easily. She normally liked to maintain control, be the one in charge. But not now, not here. Though she had a few inches on Arnold, she made use of all of them, curling around him like a blanket, blotting out his ability to think. All he could do was feel. And with Rhonda, there was always so much to feel. She had such a tantalizing scent. Holding her was like stepping into an outfit that was fresh out of the dryer. Warm, soft, clean, free. She kissed him tentatively, shyly, as though this were the first kiss she had ever experienced. Arnold couldn't remember the last time he had experienced something so soft, so slow, so captivating. Somehow, his hands found her hair, velvet black and as wondrous as he had remembered since they were children. Of all the girls in his class, the only one who had possessed a more envious hairstyle was Lila, whose simplistic pigtails, combined with her winning personality, had catapulted her to the top of the social structure. There wasn't a boy who didn't want to win Lila's affections, Arnold included. Except perhaps for the enigmatic Brainy. He never seemed to go after any of the girls. Go figure.

Turning his mind back to the amazing seductress and her relentless assault, Arnold gave in to her ministrations, everything about their torrid love affair coming back to him at once. Where she liked to be touched, and just how much. He brought his hands around to tickle her front, tugging at her shirt, which came free with of her caprini pants with little effort. He then targeted her midsection, fingers digging nicely into the soft, giving flesh of her tummy. Rhonda spasmed in delight, unable to withstand so sadistic an attack. Her mouth opened, and she laughed, which only encouraged Arnold further.

"Ah, no!" Rhonda gasped, her words disappearing into another fit of laughter. She couldn't take much more, she was powerless. "A-Ar-Arnold!"

"Yes?" the boy asked, letting up for a moment so that she could breathe.

"I'd forgotten. . .how well. . .you know me." The words escaped between breaths.

"How could I ever forget?" Arnold smirked. Rhonda smiled, then quickly stood up, taking his left arm in her own and pulling. "What are you doing?" Arnold asked, allowing himself to be dragged along behind her.

Rhonda said nothing only made a mad dash through the living room and up the staircase, which Arnold, still attached, had to take two at a time to keep up. When Rhonda had reached the top, she paused, darting her head right and left. She chose to move left, and was rewarded as she approached the door to a room with blue carpeting. The scattering of clothes on the floor told her this was indeed Arnold's room. Good. Making love in what had been Helga's would've been completely out of the question. There were some things even she wouldn't do.

Entering the room, Rhonda launched herself onto the bed, flipping onto her back to catch Arnold. Only then did she release him, arms now encircling his back, ripping his shirt and forcing it over his head.

"You never give up, do you?" Arnold asked, as Rhonda's fervor slowed. She allowed her hands to roam aimlessly over his back and chest, admiring the boy who had pierced her heart so completely, so thoroughly. She could never want anyone else.

"I never will." She insisted. "Never. I had you first." _Tell me I still have you now. _She placed her right hand over his heart, feeling the magnificent beat from within. It was moving faster and faster, pounding out a rhythm she found almost hypnotic. "Did I do that?" Rhonda smiled, bringing her head down to his chest and resting against him, wanting to intake his very essence.

"It's a talent you have." Arnold chuckled, fingering her hair, clutching the girl tightly to him.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I know." Arnold smiled. "I know."

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_Author's Notes_

Okay, another chapter completed, at long last. I always feel like I'm finishing these up at the last minute, because I am. No matter how early in the week I start, it's always on Sunday night that I'm rushing to finish it up. I wish I knew why that was, truly.

I'm going to start by acknowledging that yes, I know, I'm a merciless tease about the whole Arnold/Rhonda thing. You'll just have to keep reading to see what happens there, I'm not about to give it away! I was almost going to put more in, but then I felt it would break up the rhythm for what I have planned next week, so you'll just have to wait on that one. Plus, I just ran out of time. I'll do my best to make it worth the hold up, though.

I'd also like to thank everyone for the huge outpouring of reviews you've been bestowing upon me lately. They're very much appreciated. I love every single one, and I'm always thrilled to see that not only are the people who have always been with this story staying with it, but new people seem to be finding it all the time as well. Wunderbar! May it continue to be so for some time to come!

Before I get to the reviews, I just want to take a moment to mention how difficult it is to tell a story every week. Those of you who are authors yourselves likely know this already. It isn't easy work to be expected to entertain people for 10-30 minutes each week, depending on how fast you read and how much I've written. It's tough going, it requires a lot of dedication, and a willingness to give up the majority of your free time. And the worst part is, it can all be very thankless. But I'd like you all to know that because of your diligent efforts with reviews, e-mails, and IMs, writing this story is anything but thankless. You all enable me to take pride in it, and you give me back something for all the work I put in. That only encourages me to keep at it, so thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart.

Also, please don't forget to flood Jarel Kortan's inbox about the HA fanfic awards. I'd definitely like to see these take off, we need all the help we can get! Without further ado, let's look at some reviews!

Kitsunedream, the first review again! Good for you! And you always have so much to say, I love it! I'm glad you think it's so sweet. You've really thought this whole Arnold/Rhonda sex thing through, haven't you? Your observations are very brilliant, and you write with such intensity. I absolutely love it. I wish I could respond better, but I fear I would only end up giving away the outcome, so please forgive me for holding off on that part just now. As for Rhonda willing to change her lifestyle for Arnold, to be honest, I think she would do it for a shot at true love. The Rhonda I have written has felt her lifestyle closing in around her. While Rhonda adores having money and being privileged, it has recently come to her attention that she is destined to become a trophy wife, something she will not stand for. She wants more of a life than that, otherwise she would've transferred to a private high school. She has a foot in each world. But growing up, she took public transportation just as often as she did luxurious rides. She can cross over to the normal world if she chooses, although I agree, this would be a _huge _sacrifice for her, and I don't think she would do it for any other man. I think that the revelation of Nadine's secret must have come as a bit of a shock to a lot of people, as I really took it in a dark direction. Her relationship with Arnold is certainly muddled. Nadine and Arnold probably do have unfinished business, but while Nadine is probably not completely over him, Arnold himself has moved on. He still likes Nadine, and wishes that things hadn't turned out as they had, but she left him, and he doesn't know what happened to her. Nadine is trying to learn how to have a relationship again. Will Sid help her make some new memories? You hit the nail on the head with Helga. For Arnold, it was all about principle. He's far from in love with Helga at this point, but she's still his wife, and he can't allow people to run her down like that. He has a responsibility to her. Helga, meanwhile, is on cloud nine. While perhaps Arnold isn't doing this out of love for her, groundwork is being laid. They are slowly becoming closer. Arnold and Helga are parentless children, yes. And part of why Arnold eventually falls for her is because he realizes that in the end, they may be more alike than different. This is a large key to their love. It goes a long way to warming Arnold up to her. As for Phil and Gertie, I expect to be seeing them again rather soon, have no fear. And your comments on Gerald, whoa, knock before coming into my head! You absolutely nailed what eventually becomes the biggest role that Gerald will play in this tale! Gerald's relationship with Rhonda, and his friendship with Arnold, come into play quite a bit. It seems you know exactly what Gerald's role should be! You know, I'd better be quiet before I give too much away! Helga and Phoebe did indeed remain friends. Phoebe doesn't have that big a role in the story, but expect a real shocker with her before the end. She isn't completely absent, and you will see her floating around from time to time, I promise! I'm glad to hear you enjoy my story so much. So, you have your own love story that this reminds you of? I suspected as much. You seem to have a lot of first hand knowledge. I'm glad that you have your own Arnold, and I hope that things work out. If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. I'm here for you. Thanks for sharing so much about yourself, and for leaving such wondrous reviews! I hope I'll see you next week!

Felicia, I'm glad to see that you think last chapter was so good. I hope you enjoyed this one as well. You don't want Arnold to end up with Rhonda? I guess you'll just have to wait and see how this turns out. . .

LaurelA, did you extend your name? Anyway, thanks for the hug, and all the love. I love you too, and your reviews are most wonderful. I don't have a girlfriend to get angry with you right now, so I guess you get off lucky! So, you think my chapter was perfect? All right! I wanted to do something with the Pataki situation to make Arnold and Helga a little closer. Expect things to change as the story begins to enter its next phase, which is coming very soon. It's also nice to see that someone enjoyed what I did with Ginger and Lois. More on that in other responses. I'm afraid your cold, sinking feeling about Nadine was correct. But just because I've revealed her secret doesn't mean I'm done with her yet. You'll see more of her and Sid soon enough. True love is tricky in this case, and whether Arnold's true love is Rhonda or Helga is likely to remain an enigma for now. I try to plant plenty of evidence to put both girls on an even footing. And I have a soft spot for Shakespeare, nice quote! Thanks for being such a faithful lackey. Don't hold your breath too much now!

Acosta perez jose Ramiro, observant with Helga, aren't you? Yes, I did want Arnold to gain a better understanding of Helga, and I felt that the best way to do this was for him to see her background, where she's coming from. This would undoubtedly put many of the girl's actions over the years into perspective from him. I also wanted it to be something of a bonding experience for them. Putting Lois into the story seemed like a good idea, although she is by no means a major player, if I'm going to have Ginger do something, her family needs to be there, as she's rather family and friend oriented. She isn't a loner. Now that the major Sid/Nadine cliffhanger is out in the open, I'm really excited to see what people think. I'm glad you understood where Rhonda is coming from. It's less about sex and more about bonding. She knows that she is in danger of losing him forever and wants something that Helga cannot take.

Wow J.A.M., you are late this time. But it's okay. You're here, that's what matters. Since you had your brother's wedding and all, it just couldn't be helped. I could've had Arnold get himself out of the marriage to Helga, but then it wouldn't have been much of a story, would it? And what did you think of Nadine's secret, hmm? Yes, I decided to get Ginger a little involved. The role she plays is more metaphorical than anything else, I think it'll become more clear as time goes on. You'll just have to see what happens with Rhonda, but it's going to be a lot of fun, I assure you!

Hello again, Samantha, nice to see you! I'm glad that you enjoy the word exacerbating. _Instant Gratification_, it's not just entertainment, but great SAT preparation! You still didn't review TSH though. I'm still hoping it'll eventually clear 150 reviews. Do your part! Ok, ok, enough begging. You think that Arnold is going to wait for Helga? Well, he might. Then again, I try to make Rhonda come off as very sexy, and he is a troubled young man, so I don't know if that would be very realistic. We'll see. But you're very adamant about this. At least you know how to take a stand! Does Helga's poetic interlude last time play an important role in this story? To be honest, I never thought about it. I kind of tossed it off last time. Maybe I should take a closer look at it and see what I can wring out. Seems like I've hit a home run all around with the dinner subplot, thanks for your support! Everyone probably hates me for Nadine's secret, but you know I'm interested to hear what you think! Lila is curiously absent from this story, isn't she? Lila moved out of Hillwood when the gang was in eighth grade. I intend to make something of that, sooner or later, I just haven't gotten to it yet. As I enter the third phase of the story, Gerald and Phoebe will be coming back into play, so you'll probably learn more then. And for the record, the HA characters should all be in the 17-18 range, most of them being 18. ATBG characters are 21, while Carl and Robert (Hoodsey) are 18. If Blake enters into this story at all, he would be 16. I think that about covers it. Oh, and Grandpa Phil is 90, so he should still be alive until at least his birthday. I'll see you on Monday as well, and I'm sorry to hear about your lost work ethic. Someday, it will come home to you.

Greetings, ahhelga. We don't get to talk too much anymore, I'm sorry to say. I know, the replies were long. They're long again this week. What can I say, I'm getting soft! Arnold and Helga's relationship will change a lot throughout the story. The scene with Ginger and Lois is supposed to be a counterpoint. Arnold and Helga (present) are going through what amounts to a divorce, while Ginger is gearing up for her own wedding. The idea is to make some kind of circle. That's what I've decided to do with her. That way when things are going badly for one side, there's always the other. Helga has always had issues opening up, which is why she has such huge issues with Arnold, and has trouble maintaining the relationship. Here's hoping something can be done! I'm glad you're still excited, and I hope it stays that way. Write soon!

Arc angel Michael, I'm glad that you are enjoying this story. So your request is for me NOT to make it Arnold/Helga. And Felicia just asked for it to be Arnold/Helga. Looks like I'm going to have to disappoint someone eventually! I hope that you'll keep reading and that you enjoy the story overall, regardless how I end it. I can't say which girl wins, I'm sorry.

Roxynomekop, I take it you're not rooting for Rhonda, then. You really think she's a slut? I don't know about that. I don't think I put it into Rhonda's background that she's easy. She wants to make love to Arnold because she's in love with him and doesn't want to lose him. I don't know whether that makes it right or not, but I'm not sure if it makes her a slut. But I'm not offended. You were just speaking your mind! This is in the top two for my chapters? That's not bad, out of twenty-one (prior to this one). I just hope I can keep this level up! Love has made me do crazy things in the past, I can say that with confidence. I hope it never stops! I'm glad that you feel my writing has helped you solve one of your own personal problems. I won't pry and ask about it, but it does feel good to know I've helped. This is what the story is all about, touching you on a personal level. Good luck with your resolution! And thanks for wishing me the best. Right back at you!

Wow, rhfntc, I guess you really thought my chapter was awesome! Thanks for enjoying the balance, I try to include everything whenever possible. If Rhonda is coming off as a little desperate, it's because she is. She feels she is losing to a girl who isn't even there to defend herself! It goes to show how fully Helga penetrated him in the short period they were together. Helga does not have all the assets that Rhonda has, but that doesn't put her out of this fight. Both girls will be loved, but only one can have Arnold's. We'll have to see how this turns out. You'll find out why Helga left Arnold in time, as well as the fight that Arnold and Gerald had. All will be revealed in the end.

Rachel West, always a pleasure to see you! Just when I think I've lost you, you come back like a bolt out of the blue! Welcome home! Sorry you lost your review, and an extra thanks for going back to type this one out! Take a deep breath and escape real life for awhile! Anyway, back to the story. Yes, I am trying to ratchet the story up a bit on the emotional level. I didn't want it to slip into a boring pattern and have people start tuning out. The characters are definitely evolving, being human is a part of everything I write, an integral part, IMO. You also seem adamant about Arnold not sleeping with Rhonda. I haven't decided on that one yet, but I think I'll resolve that issue in chapter 23. How this would effect Helga is a pretty major thing. If it does happen, whatever will Helga do when she finds out? But thanks for bringing that out, it makes Helga come off as sympathetic as well, not just Rhonda. Both girls are emotional wrecks. Keep reading to see how events unfold! And thanks again for talking about the characters. I've always strived to not only see the characters as they are, but what they can be, and then blend the two to create something wonderful. I hope you were able to wait for this installment!

Okay, I did it again. I'll never learn, will I? I just love you all too much, you all write such fabulous reviews, I have to give back to you! Anyway, thanks for reading another chapter. I'll be back. In the meantime, please send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

11/21/05

3:54AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	23. Coitus Interruptus

"Coitus Interruptus"

Helga's change into nightwear took her less than a minute, as always. After stripping out of the dress she had worn to dinner, she pulled on her favorite long, white shirt and faded pink shorts. She then left Arnold's room to visit the water closet on the second floor. She hadn't brought much in the way of toiletries, she carried only a toothbrush and a travel size tube of toothpaste with her. Knocking very lightly on the engraved door on the off chance that someone might be in there, Helga waited only a moment before entering, the door having opened into an empty room as she had suspected. She examined her toothbrush and accompanying pace for only a moment. They seemed small and meager. But they suited her purpose, and that was what was important to her. Helga brushed her teeth vigorously, scrubbing up and down as though she could feel the microscopic particles being yanked clear of her enamel. She kept up the pace for a full ninety seconds, being sure not to miss a single part of her mouth. She was intent on keeping a proper smile. After spitting the paste out of her mouth, she gargled as quietly as she could, rinsed, and turned her attention to her face. Helga had been on a strict facial regimen for the past month. All the details of her marriage had taken so long to fall into place, she couldn't risk any blemishes appearing on her face; she would never have forgiven herself. She could feel that her skin was oily, which wouldn't do. Left unchecked, her complexion would resemble the surface of Mars. Helga reached for a washcloth and ran it under hot water, then began lathering with a bar of soap. It didn't take very long to work up what she needed. She took only a moment to steel herself, then she pressed the cloth to her face, scrubbing lightly at her skin. It wasn't so bad, she was growing accustomed to the routine. If only she had considered using it sooner, but better late than never. People could knock her looks if they chose, but no one would accuse her of having acne.

At length, Helga finished her bedtime ritual and left the bathroom. Arnold was waiting outside, and he flashed her a slight smile as he entered the room she had just vacated to begin his own dental hygiene regimen. Helga returned to the bedroom, making herself comfortable on the mattress. She considered the possibilities this left her, and a grin that stretched from ear to ear drew itself across her face. She could envision it now. Her sultry football headed warrior, slayer of Big Bog, returning to his inner sanctum after a hard day's work of vanishing his love's demons. She, his faithful maiden, overjoyed at her husband's safe return. She poised herself on the bed, readying herself for his arrival, her body perched on all fours, clothed in only the smallest scraps of fabric. Her love came up the stairs, one step at a time. Her heart beat firmly against her chest. Faster, harder. The door swung open and he appeared, looking almost majestic. She barely gave him time to shut the door behind him before pouncing on her victim, knocking them both to the ground, her lips desperately seeking his. She connected on the second attempt, a feeling of sweet nectar overwhelming her, the mere taste an assault on her senses. She was fully aware of every part of him, unable to claim enough as her own, no matter how hard she tried. Her hands cradled his head, fitting so perfectly in her open arms. She sought his hair, running nimble fingers through it, matted and slick with sweat from his long battles. She would offer him no rest this night. Forever impatient, she tugged at his shirt, each kiss more intense than the last. He had recovered now, acting every bit the part of a man crazed. He clutched her flaxen, blonde pigtails, tugging at them in earnest. They finally came free in a wince of pain, her long, golden hair spilling around them both like a waterfall, enveloping their faces in a cocoon on softness. She did not need air. She needed nothing this world had to offer save for his love, his caress. That she would take, nay, demand! And fie upon those that would try to deny her, to work against the course of true love. Never should they know the happiness that she pursued. Never could they understand the promise and the dream to which she had wed herself.

Relentlessly, she coaxed the very shirt from his back, insisting that it be removed. He did not make the matter easy for her. Good. She liked it when she had to struggle. It only strengthened the tigress within her, making her sharper, more savage. She would feed! Helga could swear she saw a crackle of genuine electricity between them as they broke apart. She rolled off of him reluctantly, gulping in air she hadn't realized that she needed. Her face was flushed, her cheeks having turned a delightful shade of pink.

"Helga?" His voice was like that of an angel. How she worshipped him! Oh, the power he unknowingly held over her. Her charms could only pale in comparison to his own. She was not high borne, she was inferior. That he had heeded her words, and been moved by the depths of her love, that was a miracle which continuously blessed her life each day.

"Yes, my darling?" She sang the words at him, her voice a melody on his forever tranquil seas.

"What are you doing?"

Helga blinked, her vision clearing. She was still upon Arnold's bed, perched on all fours like a cat. This time, her face flushed for real. Damn her overactive imagination! "A-Arnold! I was just, ah, whoa!" Helga let out a mild shriek as she lost her precarious balance and fell off the bed, crashing unceremoniously on her rump. She clenched her teeth, and wondered just how many of the boarders she had stirred from their slumber with her acrobatic act.

Arnold shook his head, walking over to the bed and proffering his hand to help his wife up. She hesitated for only a moment before giving him her hand, allowing him to pull her up. "Promise me you'll get yourself some sleep tonight, Helga. You look like you can use it." Helga said nothing in response as she clamored into bed, too embarrassed to risk further humiliation. Her comfort came in the form of Arnold's intoxicating scent, which she breathed in greedily as he settled in beside her. It took only a few deep breaths before she returned to the comforts of her subconscious.

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"_A restless eye across a weary room_

_A glazed look, and I was on the road to ruin_

_The music played and played as we whirled without end_

_No hint, no word, her honour to defend_

"_I will, I will." She sighed to my request_

_Then she tossed her mane while my resolve was put to the test_

_Then drowned in desire, our souls on fire_

_I led the way to the funeral pyre_

_And without a thought to the consequence_

_I gave in to my decadence_

_One slip, and down the hole we fall_

_It seems to take no time at all_

_A momentary lapse of reason_

_That binds a life for life_

_A small regret, you won't forget_

_There'll be no sleep in here tonight"_

"You can have any man in the world and you choose me." Arnold marveled as he allowed Rhonda to reacquaint herself with his form, enjoying the velvet caress that was her skin.

"I've always had a knack for choosing the best in everything." Rhonda's eyes sparkled. "I would never choose anything different in a man. If anything, I'm even fussier."

"It's always been hard for me to believe." He met her lips with an equal fervor, upping the ante. He reached down to find the buckles for her gorgeous black boots, wanting to work them off the girl. It was an effort she obliged in earnest. She had to curl her toes and tug in the opposite direction, but once they had been nudged a little, they came off easily. Her delicate feet free, Rhonda wriggled her toes through her socks, giggling. "Thank you."

"But I'm not finished yet." Arnold chuckled himself, finding where her equally black socks met the flesh of her leg and pulling down as well, removing first one, then the other.

"Oh no!" Rhonda gave a mock shriek. "Don't tell me she gave you a foot fetish while I was gone!"

"Nothing like that. I just like to work from the ground up, that's all. But in this case, I might make an exception." What was it about this girl's lips that made her so exceptional, so different than all the others? How much of their union was formed from emotion, and how much from something nearly chemical that seemed to form between them whenever they were in each others arms. Like two lonely electrons bonding to form an ion, charged with a power that was almost magical when released. He brought his arms up to free Rhonda of her constricting shirt, tossing it aside like something useless. "Ah, now there's something about _this_ I remember."

"Hmm, it's no secret you were always a fan of my better features." She winked.

Arnold decided that he definitely approved of her cute little black bra, elegant in its simplicity. Most importantly, it did not appear to be very complicated, which meant that he wouldn't have to struggle too much. "This seems to be easier than I remembered, though." Arnold indicated her support garment by lightly snapping the strap against her back.

"Well, let's just say that I didn't want to make things too difficult for you." She reached out with her tongue, running it teasingly against his teeth. "I like to think of everything."

"Ah, so you did plan to seduce me." Arnold arched his eyebrows at her.

"Guilty as charged." Rhonda admitted freely, pressing a bit more of her weight against him. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Whatever I want, darling." And it was with those words that he proceeded to ravish her, and Rhonda loved every second of it. He hadn't paid her such intimate attention since before they had broken up. He touched her in ways she couldn't imagine in her wildest dreams. He didn't just love her, he put fire in her blood, making her feel more alive than ever. She was about to beg him to get on with the main attraction when they were rudely interrupted by the shrill sound of a phone ringing downstairs. The very idea infuriated Rhonda.

"Let it ring, baby."

"I can't, it might be important."

"_This _is important." It took great effort to disengage from her lips this time.

"I'll be back in just a second Arnold insisted." He bolted down the stairs before he lost the call, leaving a frowning, frustrated girl in his bedroom.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_So, here it is again. Thanksgiving. A time for counting our blessings. A time for sharing. A time when your whole family gathers around one table overflowing with food to stuff their faces and remind themselves why they had scattered in the first place. Normally, it's not so bad. But when you're engaged, well, it kind of sparks a big debate. When it comes to the holidays, parents invariably play a role. No one wants to disappoint Mom. And both sets of parents expect you to come. Which, of course, means that you have to let someone down. Or separate for the holiday. Neither one of which is a very preferable solution. But either way, it's bound to build up some enmity with your in-laws. _

_Of course, you could be as fortunate as I am. If you are, then you grew up next door to your fiancé, so you don't have to worry about all that. Instead, you get a whole new problem. How do you get the Pattersons and the Foutleys around one table! Oh, yes. And a Bishop. Robert's coming too. He begged me! That boy is terrified of his mother, let me tell you. Umm. . .Mrs. Bishop? If you're reading this, I hope you're not taking that personally. But if you are, well, I'm sorry if Carl and I stressed you out when we were kids. I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive us. Especially Carl. I know it must be hard to believe, but he actually turned out all right. I guess a little class did him some good. It's not that he's completely changed, just that he's a little more adept at separating his personal activities from his school or job ones. And despite any influence Carl might've had, Robert turned out great. Your son and I have a close working relationship. And since we've known each other for most of our lives, we get along well. Robert's a total professional, and we've kind of reached this point where we're on the same wavelength. I don't have to ask him for much, he usually has everything done. He knows what I'm going to ask before I ever get the chance to and takes care of it. Plus, whenever I do signings, he always knows the best places to eat. He's really been my right hand, as far as what I affectionately refer to as my "writing life" goes. He is a part of my family, and I'm happy to have him. And I miss Dodie too. I don't know if we're fighting or what. I don't even know if she reads these stupid little columns. But you're invited too, Dode. You always have been._

_I'm actually being a little more productive than usual today. Multi-tasking was never a strong suit of mine. Normally, whenever I try to mix writing and anything else, the writing doesn't really get done. Today seems like a better day than most, though. I'm cooking up a lasagna for tomorrow. And as soon as the oven is free, my pumpkin pie is going in. Of course, if Darren comes over tonight, he's going to have to deal with me not cooking. I'm not a machine! I'm getting tired of the kitchen already! Either he takes me out to a restaurant, or we make do with a TV dinner! Between you and me, I've already got mine picked out just in case. I have a stash for just such emergencies. But anyway, at least I was able to find a corner where my laptop fits. I was really starting to sweat about getting this thing done on time. I haven't felt this kind of crunch since I was in college, doing term papers. Only this is a little worse. The cruelest professors wouldn't grant extensions. And just between you and me, my professors always felt that my work was worth waiting for. Unfortunately, things don't quite work that way in the real world. If I don't turn this thing in on schedule, all heck breaks loose. Courtney doesn't really appreciate having to explain to her clients why they aren't receiving the product that they paid for. I wouldn't want to do that either, to tell the truth. I think I'll try to stay on this side of the business._

_What the heck, I've got twenty minutes until my lasagna is done, I might as well tell you a story. I think it's relevant. I did miss my deadline once. It couldn't be helped. I was in an accident. Nothing too serious. But witnesses called an ambulance anyway. I twisted my ankle. And considering how my mom is a nurse, and my stepfather is a doctor, and they both work in the local hospital, well let's just say they fussed over me more than was really necessary. They decided to keep me overnight for observation. Of course, Courtney needs my column by 9AM the next day, and I hadn't even started it yet. Oh yeah, that was awkward. What can I say? I think I work better under pressure. I called Courtney and explained the situation. Needles to say, she was pretty frazzled. She hung up on me rather quickly. I felt bad, too. I didn't mean to let her down. It just, well, happened. But I never should've underestimated the indomitable spirit of Courtney Gripling. She found a way. Believe it or not, she sent Dodie down to the hospital. To take dictation from me. I remember it clearly, because I had to keep repeating myself. But eventually, we got it done, although I don't think that Dodie appreciated my creative process very much. It might have had something to do with the face that I tend to mutter to myself a lot when I'm thinking. It helps to keep me focused. It also drives a person taking dictation crazy. Especially when that person is doing it by hand. But we did get through it, and Dodie whisked herself to the office in the middle of the night to get my words typed up. Faithful to a fault. I would find out after checking on the Sunday paper that she had changed my words. She changed my words. That's about the worst thing you can do to a writer. I guess that's why we haven't been talking since. I was pretty upset at the time. Normally, I'm not one to let the sun go down on my anger. But in this case, I made an exception._

_This is what I need to be thankful for. Good friends and good family. And I feel that it's high time that I swallow my pride and give my BFF an invitation to our Thanksgiving dinner. And maybe take the time to apologize. After all, the spirit of the original Thanksgiving centered around cooperation between European settlers and Native Americans. Dodie and I aren't nearly so different! So if you'll excuse me, I have a call to make, and some crow to eat. Happy Thanksgiving!_

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"Come on, Football Head. Answer the damn phone!" Helga pleaded as she heard the ringing sound in her ear. After the fifth sound, she finally heard the pickup.

"H-hello?" It was him! The voice of her love! The only man who could make her very heart and soul sing and dance in a rhythm of pure love.

"I. . .ah. . ."

"Helga! Helga!" Something in Arnold's voice seemed to brighten when he had heard her.

". . ." _Oh God, Pataki. Not now! Do not pull this bullshit now! Talk to him!_

"Helga, come on. I know it's you. Talk to me!"

". . ." _You really make me sick, you know that? You just won't be satisfied until he hates you, will you? You want him to go running off with some tramp so you can be self-righteous later. You want to make him feel like everything is his fault._

"Helga, look, about the fight. . .I'm sorry, okay? I don't care about any of that crap. I just want to see you again. It was stupid of me to argue over this with you. Can you forgive me? Can you come home?"

". . ."

"Helga, don't do this. Please don't do this. Not this. Don't shut me out. You called me. You called me! Talk to me. Please, talk to me."

But the girl would not speak. She only wept softly into the phone, letting out occasional sobs that mercifully found their way to Arnold's ears.

"I love you, Helga. I don't care about what happened in the past. We can start over from scratch, if you'll come home."

All he heard in response was an increase in his wife's crying.

"Then tell me where you are, and I'll come to you. I'll leave right this second. Where are you Helga? Please, tell me." Only her choking sounds greeted his ears. "Please!" Arnold could feel that he was adding his own sobs to the conversation. "Fine then." Arnold mustered his strength, determined not to show this kind of weakness if she was fixated on being so cold. "Call me back when you've gotten over yourself." He hung up the phone before any more damage could be done.

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Arnold found that his hands were shaking when he put the phone back on the receiver. His breathing was ragged, and his entire body felt spent. Strange how just a few moments with Helga could be so exhausting. He knew that woman would continue to have a hold over him for some time to come.

He took a few moments to compose himself before returning to the bedroom where Rhonda was waiting patiently. She was not happy at the interruption, especially when they were just getting to the good part, but she understood that the call might've been important. He made sure to put on his most winning smile for Rhonda before stepping back into the bedroom.

"Who was it?" Rhonda asked, curious about any party who would see fit to keep her apart from her love.

"Huh?" Arnold blinked. "Oh. The phone. No one. It was just. . .someone trying to sell me something."

"Well then, I'm glad it's nothing that required your attention." Something about the way the corners of Rhonda's lips turn was irresistible when she said that.

"Nothing at all." Arnold responded before returning to the bed.

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Lor MacQuarrie examined herself in the mirror, a crooked smile adorning her face. She looked better in the morning than most women, at least, that was what she had been told by the men fortunate enough to have spent the night with her. They were not many in number, but each of them had been worth the effort. Satisfied, Lor picked up her toothbrush and began scrubbing at her teeth, anxious to clear away the bacteria that had planted themselves there overnight. A half-finished mug of coffee sat on the counter, still wafting a stream of steam into the air. She spit out the toothpaste, rinsed, and picked up her cup of joe, inhaling the aroma. Ah, sweet caffeine. It was always useful in stimulating her ravaged body. She had a nasty habit of burning the candle at both ends, which probably wasn't the brightest idea, as her bartending shifts were long and usually required her to be at her peak. Some nights were worse than others.

Of course, she hadn't planned on having to share this apartment with a roommate, least of all with someone who drove her as crazy as Helga did. That girl just continually practiced an inability to take any control of her life. It had been less than a week, and already Lor had observed that Helga was responsible for most of her own problems, and these were just the ones she chose to share. Who knew what the others were like, the private ones she chose not to disclose. Helga made no secret of her dislike for Lor, each woman was a presence the other merely tolerated in the interest of self-preservation.

Nothing was easy anymore. It was rather obvious that Helga was unlucky in love. Lor sympathized in that department. She hadn't really been in love for a long time. And that relationship hadn't ended on a note that she was anxious to repeat. For some time, Lor had emphasized sex over love, a formula that seemed to be working. It wasn't long lasting, just indulgent, primal ecstasy she partook in when she was feeling especially lonely. An instant gratification that could only fill the void fleetingly. But it was enough to get her through the night, and that was all she really cared about. Even so, she felt as though she had to do something for the girl. Helga was an absolute mess. And as much as she hated to admit it, her conscience started to bother her when she didn't do something. Too many flashbacks from her childhood, she supposed. She blamed Tish for most of it. Tish was always the one insisting that they help each other, or someone else. Providing conscience when it wasn't convenient for them to do so. Tish wasn't always correct about these things, but her heart was in the right place, and that's why they usually ended up going along with her. Even if it did contradict her easy going, laissez faire attitude.

And it was as simple as that. What Helga needed was obvious. Some release. A way to let go. She had to get that girl to come by the bar, find a nice guy to take her home and show her a good time. She needed to give Helga her confidence back. The girl most definitely needed to learn how to live. And if there was one thing Lor considered herself to be good at giving lessons in, it was how to live life to the fullest. She grinned to the fullest as she stepped into the shower in an effort to sober up and clear her hangover. She had some calls to make.

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"I've never been good at this kind of thing, Arnold." Helga pleaded.

"I know. But this is important. I just wanted you to know how I feel." Arnold responded.

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Forgive me if I seem a little distrusting." Helga explained. "This is more than I've ever hoped for, even in my wildest fantasies."

"Believe it." Arnold smiled. "You asked me to decide what I wanted. I want you. I don't want to run the risk of losing you, Helga."

"Even after what I did?"

Arnold laughed happily at her. "I have to admit, it's pretty funny. For quite awhile, I was wondering if I'd ever be able to forgive you in my heart. And then I come to find out that none of it matters. You said that you've wanted me since you were three. Congratulations, Helga. At long last, you have me."

"I have you?"

"You've got me. I never knew you could be this soft, this warm. I always suspected that you were not so cold and caring underneath, but I guess I never thought of you being able to be warm, loving."

Helga pursed her lips, contemplating the words of her football headed angel. "I wouldn't show this side of me to just anyone, you know."

"I know."

"I would never allow anyone else to see my true nature. To see me as I really am. Weak. Needy. Clingy."

"Loving. Passionate. Gentle." Arnold countered.

"I let you see me like this because you're the only one I can let my guard down with." Helga tried to explain. "I can't let anyone else know that I'm different. That I'm not the person you think I am. But you're different."

"Because you love me?"

Helga shook her head. "Because you always knew. Even when I was at my worst, you always knew that deep down, I was dying inside. That there was another me struggling to get out. I appreciate that."

"So do you love me, or what?" Arnold asked.

"Why don't you come over here and find out?" Helga said enticingly, patting the empty spot to her right.

"But then I'd have to flip over." Arnold could see every inch of her face, which did look beautiful when she smiled, despite Helga's protests. They were stretched across the large bed, lying in opposite directions so that only their heads seemed to meet in the middle.

"Well then, I guess you'll never know." Something about her grin was infectious. Who was this woman, this mystery, this childhood nemesis who could get inside of him so effortlessly. How did she know him so well? "That's more like it." Helga smirked as her husband contorted himself, doing a one-eighty on the mattress and bringing them together.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Actions speak louder than words, Football Head." When she kissed him, time, and the rest of the world, lost all meaning. Arnold Short was forever changed.

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Holding Rhonda within his arms again somehow made Arnold feel stronger. She brought back so many of his best memories in life. Rhonda had always been the most vivid of his romantic pursuits. Ruth McDougal had always been out of his league, and after discovering that her hair weighed more than her I.Q., he found that he was no longer interested in the older woman. Which was just as well, or so he thought, since Lila arrived at their school soon afterward. But Lila had never seen fit to return his affections, in spite of his best efforts. No matter how much charm he mustered, she just refused to see him as more than a friend. Arnold wished he could say he was sorry when she and her father moved to a rent controlled apartment in another part of the city, but he wasn't. Though he had given up on her in seventh grade, she was still a constant reminder of his inability to woo her. That had been some five years ago, and also the time when he had decided to get back into the dating scene. He no longer had to be "faithful" to Lila. Arnold had gone on his share of dates with a variety of girls, but it was never anything serious. As Lila would say, he hadn't found that "oh-so-special-someone." But he would eventually be rewarded for this choice with Nadine, his first serious girlfriend. Or maybe serious wasn't the right word. They weren't exactly buying fine china and booking a wedding chapel. However, Nadine was the first girl that he kept asking out on more and more dates, and finally they just sort of agreed one day to go steady. Nadine was the sweetest girl he had ever dated, including Rhonda and his soon to be ex-wife. He still desperately pondered why the girl had left him, what he could have done to upset her. She had always protested to the contrary, that it wasn't his fault, but he found that terribly difficult to believe. Nadine had always been a bit fragile inside, in spite of her cheery disposition. But he had always done well by her, and Nadine had been forever supportive of whatever Arnold took on while they were together. He still hoped that someday, she would at least reveal what it was that had prompted their premature breakup. But it had come nonetheless. And after a suitable mourning period, followed by a few months as a free agent, Rhonda took reign of his heart. It was to be expected. Truthfully, she had him at hello. All his life, Rhonda had always been the beautiful, self-appointed fashion queen of their class. Arnold often admired her spunk, but the girl was less and less a part of his social circle as they progressed through the grades. They came from different worlds. She wasn't even someone he had thought about anymore. And then, she was in his life, in a big way. She sat with him on the bus. She talked to him. Not as an underling, not as one of the masses, but as an equal. And the girl had grown up into long-legged, drool inducing woman. And he had wanted her then, although at first sight, it was a physical thing. Once she started talking about who she was, and reminiscing about their adventures as kids, he knew there was so much more to her. And then, the unthinkable happened. She called him. Arnold had never been one of the school's beautiful people and never would be. He was well-liked, he was class treasurer, and he held a spot on the baseball team every spring, but he was not a member of the elite. Rhonda elevated his social status in about an hour. Once he became her boyfriend, school became a completely new world to him. A very pleasing world, that would've been easy to get used to. And Rhonda's pleasures were infinite. Verbally, emotionally, physically, there wasn't anything about her that didn't feel good. Except, of course, when she broke up with him. Alone again, after finally finding the girl he thought was his soul mate. After sharing so much of himself with Rhonda. When they were together, he couldn't imagine ever being with any other woman. And yet, she was gone, and he had to endure. And so he did. Alone. What else did one do when mourning such a great loss? He had been perfectly happy, being miserable, wallowing in his own self-pity, until Gerald had insisted that he come with him to Rhonda's graduation party. And he had gone. Arnold liked to refer to that party as "Mistake number one." It had resulted in his unlikely marriage to Helga. He had originally thought it to be one of the biggest disasters of his life. But it turned out to be something that taught him, in the end, the true meaning of love. How appropriate that Helga had left him. Just as everyone else inevitably left him. Even Helga, a girl who had professed to be after his heart for fifteen of the eighteen years she had spent on this earth. If she wouldn't stay, what was the use anymore? Rhonda wanted him. Rhonda needed him. She came back to him. Why not accept his good fortune?

And yet, doubt still lingered. Was Rhonda truly a sure thing? Would she leave him again? He wasn't sure if he could take that kind of pain if she did. There were only so many blows to the heart a man could endure. And yet, Arnold had to admit, nearly all of his memories with Rhonda were pleasant ones. The kind of girl that any man would marry. _Stuff it, Football Head! _The girl he had been proud to bring home to his grandparents when they were in high school. _Like you would even care if I just dropped dead._ And he had contemplated tying the knot with the queen of their class more than once. _Dirty looks from you were better than nothing at all_. She embodied what a soul mate was supposed to be. _I just couldn't risk losing you. If you walk out of my life, well, I wouldn't have anything to be thankful for. _He deserved her. _What else are you supposed to do when someone you love is in trouble!_ Where had that one come from? It was a memory he had completely neglected, how could he have forgotten such a crazy moment from his childhood. One of the wildest and most exciting nights of his life, saving the neighborhood he lived in from being bulldozed to the ground. How could it have possibly slipped his mind? _Because you forgot about me, Arnold._

His breath caught, causing Rhonda to withdraw from him slightly. "Arnold? Are you okay?"

"I don't know." Arnold blinked, feeling confused. "Just a second ago, something didn't feel right."

"Am I going to fast?" Rhonda asked. "I can slow down. I know it's. . .been awhile for us. I just want this to be perfect."

"Yeah." He nodded. "Maybe you should give me a minute."

"Take your time." She smiled seductively, allowing the young man to extricate from their tangle of arms and legs. Arnold quickly moved away from the bed and into the bathroom to stare down the man in the mirror.

_Was it love, or was it the idea of being in love?_

_Or was it the hand of fate, that seemed to fit just like a glove?_

_The moment slipped by, and soon the seeds were sown_

_The year grew late, and neither one wanted to remain alone_

_One slip, and down the hole we fall_

_It seems to take no time at all_

_A momentary lapse of reason_

_That binds a life to a life_

_The one regret you will never forget_

_There'll be no sleep in here tonight_

--Pink Floyd

"One Slip"

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Author's Notes

Hallelujah, I'm finished! This one was tough, as I had to fight off a lot of apathy. For some reason, I just didn't want to finish this week. But I pushed myself, knowing how much you all rely on me. I like to be dependable, and I fear that taking time off will only cause me to grow more apathetic. The more you talk about writing something, the less writing you actually do. So I wrote.

Anyway, I'm trying an experiment this week. Mostly because FFN is forcing me too. I'm responding to every review that I can with the new reply feature FFN built in. Of course, this means that I'm not allowed to respond to my reviews in the story anymore, which I think is very unfair. But sadly, I don't get to make the rules, so there we are. I will be taking the time to handle the anonymous reviews in here, just to be fair. So my point here is that for this chapter, I personally agree guarantee that I responded to everyone. Most of you should've gotten e-mails from FFN with my response, and the anonymous ones are done here. If anyone has failed to get my response, please let me know. I've saved them all, so I'll get it to you. I just want everyone to know that I feel it's important to correspond with fans and not just ignore them all. It gives you all a little ownership in the story. Remember me when the HA Fanfiction Awards come around!

Okay, I'm tired, and I can't think of a lot to say, so I'm just going to jump right into the anonymous reviews.

Laurel, you do know better. I don't have help from anyone with the Ginger columns. I just write them as I see fit, and I try to think like Ginger and step beside her persona. Apparently, I'm doing a pretty good job of that. I'm glad you like the job I do in capturing female thoughts. Women absolutely fascinate me, but then, that's typical of most men, isn't it? Thank you for the cookies! I don't know completely where Courtney and Deirdre's relationship is going. I tend to make these things up as I go along. But they'll be coming up in my cycle soon. I think I'm due to use Carl next week, though. I tried to spare everyone the gory details and make Nadine's terrible experience a little more accessible. I guess you can say I made it as easy as possible, as far as rape goes, and that's not saying much. I just didn't want her to be brutalized, which is why I decided she didn't resist the assault. All of Nadine's scars are on the inside. However, I've decided to go in a slightly different direction with her pain. She doesn't feel dirty or shamed because of what happened, but she has lost the ability to talk to people, especially men, which is why she's remained mostly quiet the past few years. She doesn't fully understand what happened to her, as in, why would someone want to do that? And she certainly hasn't been able to have a relationship. Eventually, we'll know if Sid can do anything for her or not. I hope that Helga's interruption of Arnold and Rhonda's coupling was to your satisfaction. I am to please! Enjoy the new chapter!

Acosta perez jose Ramiro, I definitely approve of that proverb. It describes Courtney's situation perfectly! Somehow, I had the feeling that Sid and Nadine would be the stars of the last chapter. In fact, I deliberately left them out of this one to give them a little chance to cool down before diving back into that complex situation. I don't want to delve too much into what Nadine was feeling, as I fear it would start to give away the plot. But your description about what she went through was fitting, I feel, and belies some experience. Thank you for the insight.

Rachel, you think that I'm good at torture? Well, you're the reader, so I'll take your word for it. And wow, it sounds like you _definitely _have some experience in reconnecting with an old flame. You describe it so well. I really don't know what to say. You never cease to amaze me with your descriptions. I'd love to read something that you've written sometime. But perhaps I'd better move on before I risk embarrassing you. And now you're flattering me to boot? I can scarcely contain myself! I've been saving a lot of reviews to read on Sunday night as I'm typing this stuff up, and this was exactly what I needed to hear! You're an angel! I don't really know how I'm able to put everything together as you described, making it all different while at the same time keeping it all connected. I guess it's just a talent that I have. Take heart that it is indeed Monday, and you may sate yourself on another chapter. I'm glad to hear that you have ideas for your own stories. I'd really like to take a look sometime if you wouldn't mind. Would you consider sharing some of those notes with me? I would be honored. And your intent not to leave people hanging is admirable. I post my stuff as I write it because then I feel an obligation to continue it. If I never publish, then I'm not letting anyone down but myself. Of course, I have my share of unfinished stories on this site, but I consider those to be learning experiences. Stuff I took on that was just too much for one person to reasonably finish. Then again, many people I talk to consider IG to be too big, but I'm a lot more mature now, and have been updating each and every week. I've only missed like twice since I started, I consider that to be pretty good! Anyway, I hope you found this chapter to you're liking.

Okay, and that covers it for this week. I'm now typing up responses through FFN's new system for the signed reviews. I don't like to leave people out. Please register or leave signed reviews if you would like to receive responses in the same way, I think they come out better. I promise that I'll return Sid and Nadine to the action next week.

And lastly, I'd just like to let LilyJames know that I continue to appreciate the efforts she puts in. I can be terrible about responding to my e-mails because everyone wants my time when I'm online. But you are most welcome for the chapter dedication, and you deserved every bit of it. I only wish there was something better I could do to express my thanks, but on the internet, words are all I have.

I'll see you all in a week. Until that time, please send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

11/28/05

4:14AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	24. A Closer Look

"A Closer Look"

It was sometime in the middle of the night that Arnold awoke with a start. Something had just shocked him into consciousness, and he began to dart his eyes back and forth, wondering what it was that could've produced such a reaction. He looked around his room, but everything seemed at peace. The night was still. No commotion could be heard through the heating vents, which meant that the rest of the house was normal. The sinking feeling that Arnold had had in his stomach began to subside. He rolled onto his side, finding Helga sound asleep, looking rather content. A small patch of drool ran down the side of her pillow, and she seemed to be mouthing something, incomprehensible words occasionally spilling from her lips. As usual, she had stolen most of the covers from him, but since it was summer, Arnold found he needed little. The room held a good deal of heat from the day, even with the skylight propped open to let in some of the cooler night air. Brick buildings had a tendency to radiate the heat from sunlight.

A tangle of blonde hair caught in Arnold's face as his wife shifted slightly in her sleep. Helga certainly had plenty of her golden threads to spare. Once free of her ponytail, her hair became rather unmanageable. The scent of her shampoo wafted into his nostrils. The fact that she always seemed to smell so good continued to amaze him. Nadine had always smelled like the scent that greeted him whenever he walked into Mrs. Vitello's shop. A mixture of pleasant, subtle aromas mixing together that made you feel calm and relaxed. Nadine had always been a favorite of his. He suspected that he would forever wonder what might have passed between the two of them. But if fate had any reason to break them up, then it was certainly Rhonda. And yet the universe had not seen fit to leave well enough alone. Arnold was pressed onward on his journey to find the perfect mate, and presented with Helga, the girl of his screams. While growing up, Helga had disliked him with a passion, and for no good reason that Arnold could fathom. But she had been joined at his hip the moment his back was turned. Being married to Helga was certainly unique, to say the least. There couldn't possibly be another woman like her in all the world. The ways she could move from bitter to sweet to angry made her almost magical. Her moods could turn on a dime. And her ability to love and to hate so completely was mystifying, the intensity of her emotions something Arnold found that he could easily become addicted to. She was a force to be reckoned with, she had no equal. And now she shared his bed. It was a thought as sobering as it was alluring. She was probably just as dangerous now as when they were children, if not moreso.

A faint yawn escaped her throat, and the girl shifted in her sleep, burrowing against him a bit more, which was not entirely unpleasant. It was something else that caused discomfort. As Helga's feet extended and pressed against him, he knew instantly what had awoken him. Helga's feet were like blocks of ice! Attempts to escape her frigid extremities only met with pursuit. Helga sought warmth, and she clearly would not be denied. It took some struggling on his part, but after bouncing the bed numerous times, he finally managed to work it so her feet were wedged between his legs. The constant fidgeting began to rouse the blonde woman, and she tugged at the covers, her body stretching outwards. Arnold was rewarded for the trouble with a bony elbow to his face and an inadvertent kick to a very uncomfortable place. He let out a yelp of pain, which elicited a grown from Helga, who made her dissatisfaction at having her sleep interrupted readily apparent. "Cug iz ot" Arnold heard her say in her lightening sleep, her displeasure becoming more pronounced. Of course, she wasn't the one who was suffering. It was at that moment when Arnold decided that sleeping with Helga was hazardous to his health. He shook his wife gently, prodding her awake.

"Helga. Helga! C'mon, wake up!"

"Mmmf." Helga grunted, blinking her eyes steadily. "Huh? What do you want, Football Head?"

"For you to stop kicking me." Arnold explained.

"I'm not kicking you!" Helga protested her innocence.

"Well, certain parts of me can attest otherwise. And your feet are cold!"

"That's right, Arnold. Flatter will get you everywhere." Helga scoffed.

"Come on, Helga. It's the middle of the night. I don't want to fight."

"But we're so very good at it." Helga grinned in that way that made Arnold's hair stand on end.

"I know. We always have been."

Helga softened her voice a bit. "We never can find the middle, can we?"

"I suppose not. Maybe we're just not trying hard enough. I thought the last few days, we were getting along okay."

"You have no idea how hard I'm trying." Helga explained. "You never will."

"Why are we doing this, Helga? Who are we kidding, anyway? This isn't even real. In a couple of months it'll be like this never happened."

"Don't start talking like that, okay? I didn't mean for it to be this way. Besides, since when do you care?"

"I care because when I have to protect you from your own father, then something has to be done."

"Stop, enough. Arnold, I don't want to talk about this right now."

"But Helga, when are we going to-"

"Here." Helga smiled slightly for him. "I'll turn towards you."

"How is that supposed to help?"

"Because this way, if I kick in my sleep again, I'll be pushing my legs behind me. Doi!"

"Oh, right."

"Plus, you'll keep my feet toasty." Helga laughed, running her left foot against his leg. "Ah, that's the stuff." She sighed, clutching Arnold to her like a life size plush toy, enveloping him in her arms. Helga couldn't resist leaving a trail of flash kisses down the back of his head, reveling in his scent, his feel. "Goodnight." She breathed into his ear, her voice sounding like a hum to Arnold. He allowed her to carry them back to sleep.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_Being Ginger Foutley is an experience all its own, and I wouldn't trade it for anything this world has to offer. I know, because I did it once. Yup, I'm feeling nostalgic today. Take it as a warning if my adolescent stories get to you._

_Throughout junior high school, I enjoyed a very special relationship with Courtney Gripling, the undisputed crown princess of Lucky Junior High. Every girl wanted to be Courtney. Every boy wanted to date her. Most of us girls just settled for getting a hello out of her. Recognition was everything. She was something else. Still is. And the boys, ha! Courtney was out of their league, but they still fought for the privilege to date someone in her circle. Many tried, few succeeded. I, on the other hand, got to be Courtney._

_Yes, you heard me right. Courtney became indisposed at a socially critical time, and appointed me as her replacement. And it was complete. For those few days Ginger Foutley ceased to exist. I only responded to the name Courtney. I didn't just talk the talk, I walked the walk. A little too well, according to my friends. Apparently they didn't appreciate me going over to the dark side. When I looked back, I didn't like who I had become either. So I changed. I forced the real Courtney into a position where she had to come back. I made her realize how unique she was. And now, if she's reading this, she knows the truth. But I think it's time for her to know. I learned a new respect for Courtney that week. I guess you could say that I found out that there are depths to shallowness. If being popular is a world all its own, then being the queen is like living in another universe. It really isn't what I'm cut out for. _

_But sometimes, things cut two ways. Courtney got a taste of the way I live once. Her mother was in the hospital, recovering from some simple plastic surgery. She developed some kind of infection that needed to be treated. And so I took pity on Courtney, she seemed so lonely. I told her she could stay with us. As it turned out, it wasn't one of my prouder moments in life. When I'm really honest, I acted like a spoiled brat. I became jealous. Not of her money, or her social standing. It was the way she got along so well at my mom. I just felt like she was taking something away from me, something I wouldn't be able to get back. Jealousy doesn't suit me very well, but there it was. I drove a wedge between Courtney and myself, and I rescinded my invitation. I made her leave. And yet, Courtney decided to overlook my cruelty, which proved what a good person she really is. It wasn't the only time she chose to extend a similar courtesy to me, but then, I did save her bacon plenty of times in those days, socially speaking. She owed me a few indulgences. _

_Anyway, what I'm trying to explain is that I have some experience with seeing how the other half lives. Being at the top of the social structure is a really hard job. Everyone wants a piece of you. Everyone expects you to have all the answers. Come to think of it, people still expect that of me now. It might have something to do with my line of work. There's a lot of people out there who as me the craziest stuff, wanting me to answer it in my column. Apparently there are those who still subscribe to the theory that the newspapers can't print things that aren't true. If only that was the way things are! But I'm afraid if that were true, the political landscape would change overnight, not to mention the economy. Heck, our whole way of life would be turned upside down. But then again, I could be wrong. When I was growing up, my teachers couldn't help but notice that I stood up for truth, justice, and equality. I always believed that everyone deserved a fair shake. That the kids who misbehaved were falling through the cracks in the system. And I still believe in those values. They are worth preserving. Only when I went to college, I learned a few things about truth. The most important discovery I made is that truth is subjective. Trust me on this one. Spend some time in a philosophy class, and it shatters a few of your illusions. Soon enough, you'll find yourself looking at the world in different ways than you did before you started, which, of course, is the point of the whole thing. It's kind of a rude awakening when you realize that everyone else in the world is as stubborn and rigid as you are. Okay, I know, not exactly a new concept. Of course I already knew that, intellectually speaking. But knowing it and absorbing it are two entirely different matters. The things that other people believe in are the true to them, just as the stuff I believe in is the truth to me. It all comes down to ourselves, who we are. And when you look at what a crazy place the world has evolved into, that's when it all begins to make a lot of sense._

_Don't believe me? Take your average, small child as an example. That child very likely believes in Santa Claus. But what becomes of him as he grows older? He might begin to outgrow the notion of a fat man in a red suit who sneaks down people's chimneys to eat cookies, drink milk, and leave toys. Or perhaps one of the other children at school will tell him that there's no such thing as Santa Claus. If the child stops believing, then the truth has changed for this kid. Once, Santa was real. But now he is a sham. What's more, the child may lose faith in the people who taught him to believe in Santa to begin with. While it's true that our perceptions of reality are rarely the truth, they are all we really have. The human mind is largely incapable of thinking of the world beyond our own perceptions. We lose our frame of reference when we do. What's more, these perceptions are the truth to us. We know only what our senses tell us. Science has proven that the earth is round. But does it feel round to you? Of course not. It's flat to us. We just intellectually accept that the earth is round. We ignore our perceptions. To be honest, the only time I ever perceive the earth is round is when I stare straight up into the blue sky, and it looks as though I'm inside of a giant astrodome. Our perceptions become our truth, our reality. And if this is the case, then the question we have to ask ourselves is this: Are there any absolute truths to believe in? I like to think so. Just because something is beyond our perception, doesn't make it any less real. The key is that we have to be open to it, to look beyond ourselves. Sure, it isn't easy, but it's all part of the challenge. And it just might help to make the world a better place. Or at least bring you some comfort when you're standing in long lines, doing your holiday shopping. _

_What do you think? Too far out there? Okay, maybe. I never really know where I'm going with these things until I'm finished, but I guess that's all part of being a writer. Like procrastination. I've gotten really good at that. Tomorrow is always another day. Until you're staring at a blank page, three hours before the deadline, wondering what the heck you were thinking all week! Yeah, that's me all over. Of course, there are some pretty good benefits to this job. Besides being able to do it all at the last minute, I also get to share some our most embarrassing family secrets with the world. I'm sure that I'll have some for you soon enough. That is, when I get tired of telling stories about myself. Or just making stuff up. What! Don't look at me like that! It comes with the territory! How would you like being asked to entertain people on a weekly basis! But I'm still getting something out of it, trust me. You're all very supportive, so thanks for that. _

_You know me, I like to make everyone's day a little more fun, give you something to smile about. In this day and age, we can all use a bit more of that, no question. So try to keep your holiday spirit as we dive into the shopping season. The life you spare may be mine!_

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Nadine frowned, not knowing what to make of her companion. No matter how much she tried to think otherwise, she knew in her heart that her relationship with Sid would now be forever changed. And now that she had revealed the truth, how long would it be until the rest of her graduating class found out? Certainly, the questions would come as to what the two of them had been doing together all night, the inferences made.

"Nadine. . ." Sid called after her for the tenth time in as many minutes, but the girl refused to slow her pace as she moved aimlessly down the sidewalk, her pace forever quickening. Each stride carried her further and further away from the wretched memories, thoughts that she had not allowed herself to dwell on for what felt like an eternity. So why did she suddenly allow herself to be filled with such maddening self doubt? It angered her, made her come face to face with a disgust for her own wretchedness. These were the very things she swore that she would not succumb to. She would not play the role of the victim. She refused to be that weak, to allow the actions of someone else to govern the rest of her life. But she had to admit that her assailant was certainly doing a fine job of controlling her so far. And that only served to make her feel even worse. Hiding the truth from herself was obvious ruining her ability to have normal relationships. Already this had cost her Arnold. How many other opportunities had slipped through her grasp? How much longer until she learned to trust again? When would she learn?

Nadine stopped abruptly, her thoughts governing her actions. "Sid?"

"Yeah?" He asked, walking up to her.

"What's it like? To talk to girls?"

Sid blinked, unsure how to handle the question. "I don't know, I'm just good with flirting. I spent a lot of time in eighth and ninth grade figuring girls out. I don't pretend to be an expert, but I like the whole dance, you know? I've never been very shy around them. But then, my reputation does precede me."

"Too well." Nadine smirked, the first small ray of happiness that she had expressed since telling Sid the truth. "Of course, this only begs the question of why on earth I'm revealing all of this stuff to you."

"I have one of those faces." Sid explained. "Trust me, you're not the first person I've heard bad stuff from. When I see someone in trouble, well, then I do my best to help. I know how it is to need a leg up. I've been there myself."

"Not like this you haven't." Nadine's lips dropped into a frown.

"Can I tell you something?"

"What?"

"It doesn't matter. That guy, he's not worth remembering. He can't take anything away from you that you don't let him take. Look at yourself, Nadine. You're still so beautiful, so intelligent. All you need is to get your self-confidence back. And to remember that you're better than him, and you always will be. Don't let him bring you down to his level."

"Sid. . .why are you doing this? Why do you have to be so nice to me?"

"Because I couldn't keep my reputation as a ladies man otherwise. A lot of the girls won't believe me, but I do care about them. Any girl that I've ever stood up for a date, or broken up with, I always had my reasons. It wasn't about me being selfish, or trying to hurt them. I mostly did it for their own protection. I didn't want them getting hurt. Not when I knew they were too good for me.

"And what about me?" Nadine stamped her foot on the ground, whirling on her heel. She crossed the distance between them. "Am I too good for you?"

"Oh, Nadine." Sid sighed. "You don't want me."

"You're right." Nadine replied. "I need you." And she kissed him.

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"Arnold." Helga cried in a whisper as she dropped her cell phone, watching it fall to the grass below. "What is wrong with me?" She knew not what to do, save for weeping, and she did nothing to stifle the tears that began to fall from her eyes. How she had loved him, loved him still. But why had she left? Why had she let this happen to them? "This is my arrogance." She sniffed. "Is this what is to become of our love? Reduced to a bitter memory because of a haughty woman's stubborn refusal to accept true affection? What is wrong with me! Why do I always run away from the things I desire most! Criminey! It's enough to make me sick! I do make me sick. Lovesick, lovelorn. Love lost. Love gone, hope gone. Why can I only seek happiness in misery? Why can't I allow myself to give in to what the both of us are feeling? We are meant to be. Since the first time we met, I've known it to be true. Fate herself hast prov'd it o'er and o'er. And yet I do nothing but sabotage my own efforts. Arnold, is this the truth. Is this all there is for us. Have I become so wretched and pitiful that you can no longer bear to gaze upon me? Has my foolishness declared your love to be incomplete? Can you not see how much I adore you, worship you, desire you? That even still, I cannot forsake my quest. That I have run away from you, but cannot run away from myself. This is who I am, but what of how I've lived. Will anyone even remember me? And if so, will I be recalled as only a fool. Unlucky not only in love, but in all. Forgive me, my love, for the betrayals and trespasses against us. The ones that I regret the most are those crimes I have committed against your very soul. And even as I contemplate my actions, my mistakes, and try to make amends, I find that I cannot. I cannot speak to you, God save me. I cannot speak. Yet if ever you loved me, I beg of you. Call this lonely phone, this lonely heart. Beg me to talk with you once more, and coax the words from my heart that I cannot bring myself to say on my own."

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Rhonda frowned, curled up on Arnold's bed hugging her knees to her chest. She had heard very little out of Arnold since he had gone into the bathroom to find himself. She was beginning to wonder how much time he needed. This wasn't a good sign. Something was going terribly wrong between them. And she had a very strong hunch that the certain something went by the name of Helga Pataki. Fine then, if Helga wanted to play dirty, then Rhonda could give the blonde ugly duckling her money's worth and more. Rhonda smiled at herself as she pulled off every last stitch of clothing remaining on her. The trick, she knew, was to make an offer that couldn't be refused. And he would not refuse this.

"Arnold. . ." She called sweetly, rising to her feet. She took the smooth, white sheet from the bed and wrapped it around herself, allowing the fabric to fall about her body, making sure that patches of skin were visible throughout. Seduction was an art she did not normally have to resort to. But she was not too proud to resort to this if she had to. She would not admit defeat. "Arnold, I wish you would come out."

"I just need a few minutes, Rhonda."

She reached out with her fingers, slender, dainty; brushing them against the wood on the door. "Don't keep me waiting, baby." She used her most pathetic voice, the one that let him know that she needed him. "It's just me out here. No lies. No misconceptions. No questions."

Arnold took a deep breath and decided to reappear to his princess. The first thing he noticed was that she hadn't been kidding. Her clothes were strewn about the room as though she were a stripper at the end of her act. The sheet she let cling to herself looked so inviting, so intoxicating, and the flesh beneath it sung to him. With tears in his eyes, Arnold ran to Rhonda, holding her to him tightly, drinking her very scent, letting his fingers come against her softer skin. "Rhonda, I'm sorry about before, I just-"

"Shhh." She silenced him with a kiss. "It doesn't matter. I know you love me, baby. I'm here for you, Arnold. I am always here for you. And I will never leave you, not again. I'm staying right here." Her breath tickled his cheek, and he could feel tears come out of her eyes as she pressed herself to him. "It's okay. I forgive you. I'll forgive you always. Just don't let go of me."

"I can't." Arnold whispered, crying himself. "You're all that I have in this world."

Rhonda brushed a lock of his blonde hair away from Arnold's face, looking deep into his eyes. "Then let's create something new, just for ourselves." Rhonda knew in her heart then that she had found something far more valuable than sex.

"I miss her, Rhonda. I miss her so much." Arnold wept, clutching Rhonda ever tighter. "I know it's crazy, but I just can't help it. I never expected this to happen. I never expected to care. Not like this, not for her. I never thought someone like her could get inside me."

"It's not your fault, Arnold." Rhonda reassured him, stroking his hair. "You're only human. She loves you, that's all. She loves you so much, and you couldn't help but respond."

"I don't know how to stop." Arnold sniffed. "But maybe it's true. Maybe some people just aren't meant to be together. But why did this have to happen? Why couldn't I have just stayed with you?"

"Because you weren't meant to. The more you tell me about this, the more I think that this was meant to happen, Arnold. We have to go through this, together. And I don't like it." She rested her head against his own, adding her own tears. "I don't like what this could mean. I can't stand knowing that I'm in danger of losing you forever." Her heart floated out to him. "It's not about you and I, or you and Helga anymore." She tossed the sheet about her, covering herself better. "It's not about seduction either. This is all wrong. I'm. . .sorry for what I've done."

"Don't be sorry, Rhonda." Arnold told her. "You've only been doing what you have to do. I know how you feel about me, how we feel about each other."

"But if Helga truly lives in your heart, Arnold. . .then we have to involve her in this. There are some things even I won't do. And I won't trick you into giving up on Helga like this only to have you hate me for it someday. If we're going to be together, then it will not be a lie! It will be because our love is stronger!"

"What would you have me do?" Arnold asked, burrowing his head into Rhonda's chest like a child seeking comfort from his mother.

"Find Helga." Rhonda stuttered. "Go to her. And learn the truth about your heart. Only then can you truly give it to either of us."

"I won't leave you, Rhonda. Not now. I'm not losing you again, not like last time."

"Then I will stay with you. But you must still find Helga." She placed her hands on the back of his head, reassuring his place, forcing herself to resist the overwhelming urge to make their intimate contact less innocent. "Just let it out." Rhonda whispered. "Let it out, baby. I'm not leaving you this time." The stayed like that for some time.

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Author's Notes

Hello everybody! I understand that this chapter is about a thousand words shorter than I usually give you, but I've been very busy lately, and I'm dead tired to boot. I need to go back to bed and get some more Z's. But I couldn't possibly think of doing that without mentioning the important stuff.

First of all, I would like to draw everyone's attentions to the 2005 Hey Arnold Fanfiction Awards. Jarel Kortan has posted the nature of the contest here at FFN. I would like to see this be a great success, so I urge each of you to go out and vote for your favorite stories and authors. There is a plethora of categories available, so please participate. This is designed to bring us all together to celebrate one another's company. Even if you're not a writer, that doesn't mean you shouldn't participate. This is an event for the entire HA fan community, not just the writers. The truth is, those who only read probably know all the best stories and authors better than we ever could, so once again, I beg you all to please make a nomination today! It means a lot to us!

That said, I'd also like to mention that I'm not overly fond of the new review response function here at FFN. Quite frankly, I hate it, but I'm following the TOS because I don't want to lose the free hosting of my stories. I wouldn't know how I could continue to function without FFN to give my creative works a home, so I'm being a good tenant. I do promise you all that I will continue to respond to every review. That is very important to me as a writer, because I feel that it helps to build a good rapport with my fans. I like everyone to feel as though we are sharing in this story together, rather than me being some figure on high doling out breadcrumbs to the masses. I'm afraid my ego just isn't quite that big. And I'd like to thank everyone who keeps reading this story each week. You people make it all worthwhile, make me feel as though I am accomplishing something. It's a wonderful feeling to come home from work after a hard day and have all of you wanting to give me your feedback about my latest offerings. You people are what this fanfiction thing is all about. So please, pat yourselves all on the back. You deserve it.

And now, some news about the story itself. It is my duty to inform all of you that "Instant Gratification" is going on hiatus after the release of Chapter 25, which is scheduled for December 12. Please, don't be alarmed. I have not lost interest in the story, I simply need about two weeks to prepare my newest story, "Ceremony Of Innocence." COI will be a one-shot which follows the events of "The Sweet Hereafter" and "Say You Will." This story is my Christmas offering to all of the fans, and I even have it scheduled to publish on December 25. This may be my biggest one-shot yes, as it will revolve around the dynamics of Arnold and Helga's changed relationship, and feature Lila in a big way. There are a number of scenes that I'm very excited about, so I hope you'll tune in when the holiday comes. I really believe in this story, and I think it will feature a number of things you'd like to see, so be sure to look for it! As for the hiatus of IG, it will return to regular weekly updates on either January 2 or January 9, depending on how my time goes over the holiday season. I will make an effort to release a new trailer for it while it's on hiatus, seeing as how Chapter 26 will begin to move the story forward in a new direction. I'm looking forward to it!

Okay, let's do a little business with my readers at home here. Moving on to the reviews, just a little shout out to Rachel West and Kitsunedream. I miss you two when you don't review, you are some of my more observant readers, so I hope you both have time this week!

Acosta perez jose Ramiro, I'm glad that you like the developing connections between Helga, Arnold, and Rhonda. I tried to take it much further in this latest chapter, with Rhonda's realizations about how big this thing is for all of them. This isn't going to be easy, and Arnold is going to be constantly torn. I really loved that little fantasy bit I did with Helga. It just felt like something you would see on the show. Well, maybe not quite to that extent, but the formula just really struck a chord with me. I had thought it was about time that I explained why Ginger and Dodie don't seem to be very close, and this made sense to me. We will be seeing more of them as time goes on. As I mentioned in an early chapter, it's all symmetrical. And your analyses are most appreciated. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and perceptions with all of us, that's what helps make the story a better experience overall.

Laurel, you are very observant! Yes, I have snuck in some characters from The Weekenders! I had planned to from the get-go. I didn't feel they were quite big enough to warrant credits in my opening sequence, but everyone will get one in the end, listed in the order of importance. I can tell you that all four of the primary Weekenders players will show up in IG sooner or later. I first floated the connection of these worlds in "The Sweet Hereafter," there's a brief sequence when Arnold, Olga, and Helga are listening to Jan "The Man" Testaverde on the radio. As for giggling in the library, I suggest that there are just some times when you have to let that sort of thing out, even in the library. Why? Because then everyone will want to know what you're reading! I'm glad that the Ginger columns get to you at times. If I were you, I would send that card! I have very few friends myself, so it's rough for me. I couldn't let Rhonda have things quite so easily, which is why I wanted some kind of interruption by Helga. As things stand now, I think that Rhonda has the right idea. We'll just have to see what happens. My Thanksgiving was decent. I didn't really do much, but then, Thanksgiving is kind of a boring holiday. Anyway, I look forward to your next review. Thanks again for reading each week, and for being my loyal follower. Maybe for Christmas, I'll promote you!

Anyone I didn't reply to here got one of those personal reviews sent directly to your inbox. I know, it's a little different, but look at it this way, it makes things more personalized, something only you get to see. So don't be too shy with those love letters and marriage proposals! You know what to do with them! And everyone, please feel free to look me up on AIM!

Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

12/5/05

4:12AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	25. What's Important

_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

"_It doesn't matter how sincere it is_

_Or how heartfelt the spirit_

_Sentiment will not endear it_

_What's important is, the price."_

_--Tom Lehrer_

"_A Christmas Carol"_

_Okay, so I know what you're thinking, but unfortunately, it's often the truth at this time of year. Sometimes we get so caught up in the tradition of gift giving that nothing else about this day seems to matter. And I hate that. Now, before everyone groans about another message denouncing the commercialization of Christmas, hear me out. That's not really what this is about. I'm not going to tell you that the stores are ruining Christmas, or to take up arms in the war against Christmas, or any of that. It might seem a little out of character for me not to, but there's already a hundred other people out there willing to do that. I don't want to be just another voice in the throng, I prefer to be on the front lines. So instead, I'm going to talk a bit about family, because that's what this is all about._

_Here we are again, it's late at night on Christmas Eve. Well, okay, not really. I'll confess that I wanted to spend some time with my own family, so I handed this into Courtney on Wednesday. Plus, the newspapers are delivering the Sunday edition on Saturday this week because of the holiday. But for the sake of argument, let's all just make believe. It's more fun that way, right? _

_So instead I'm going to talk to you for a bit on what I feel Christmas is all about. Now I've never been very good at practicing religion, but I do firmly believe that the original meaning beyond Christmas was meant to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Now, I know there's a lot of controversy over that, and plenty of people willing to come forth with their talk about how it was made to convert pagans to Christianity, and the Jesus couldn't have been born in December, and all that. And they're probably right. But it shouldn't matter. The point is, this is the time of year when we have elected to celebrate that birth. _

_Okay, fine. So that's all well and good. But what about people that aren't into Christianity? Well, in the world we live in, there's plenty more to Christmas than an infant in a manger. The national government lists Christmas as a national holiday. Most of us get the day off, and those that don't are raking in some serious cash. But whether you observe Christmas religiously or not, what do we do on Christmas Day? Well, I personally like to spend it with my family and my friends, the people that mean the most to me. Traditionally, we exchange gifts, a ceremony grounded both in the story of the Magi and also from other winter holidays that Christmas essentially absorbed. It's supposed to be a time of year when we show one another how much we care by giving presents to each other. But to me, it's never been about the presents. It's about the people. And even though I don't expect most people to believe me, it really does feel better to give than to receive. I like to see my mother's face light up when I give her something complex that took me a while to put together. Like the year I bought her a tea set but every piece was from a different place and had a certain theme. Sure, she enjoyed the present, but I think what really made her happy is knowing that I took the time to think about what I wanted to get for her. When I was younger, I used to exchange a lot of handmade stuff with my best friends Dodie and Macie. I used to think that these were the kinds of things that helped cement our bonds of friendship. Now I wonder if we'd have been better off using actual cement. But that's another story for another time._

_What do you think of when you hear the word Christmas? Carols? Presents? Family? A big dinner? What does the holiday mean to you? It's so engrained in a culture that I don't personally know a single person who doesn't celebrate it at least secularly. Radio stations play holiday songs all day long. You can't get away from the advertisements to buy stuff. The store hours get longer and longer all the way up to Christmas Eve. The lines get longer. The parking spaces shrink in size and number. By the time we get to the week before Christmas, there's this big part of me that's just ready for the whole thing to be over already. But somehow, I forge ahead anyhow. It's important to keep yourself going. I made the mistake of getting lazy one year and putting everything off until this week. Boy, was that a mistake! I've never regretted something so much! Trust me, you don't want to put yourself through that kind of hassle. It's the kind of mistake you only make once, and that's enough to make you start swearing by mail order catalogs. And there's definitely something to be said for those people who have all of their shopping done before Thanksgiving. Maybe that is the best way to go. I've never tried it before. But then, I'm usually busy trying to do about fifty other things every week. Christmas rarely even enters my mind until the day after Thanksgiving. Black Friday. The day the world goes out to cram as much shopping into one day. Ironically, it's probably the day that's about as far removed from the Christmas spirit as you can get. When people start coming to blows about who gets the last throw blanket, you know that things have gotten out of hand. _

_Filling out Christmas cards, there's a part I really like! Ha! It drives me crazy, honestly. I always end up with writer's cramp by the time I'm done. I wonder if this age of computers has made me soft on stuff like that. But somehow, a Christmas e-mail seems to lack the personal touch I always try to go for. This column feels much more genuine to me, because it's from the heart and sent out to everyone. Something to be read at Christmas time, the only gift I really have to offer all of my fans. I only wish it could be more. But when you push your deadline as much as I do, your options become kind of limited._

_I'm staring outside. The moon is waning. The trees are still snow crested. Every so often, the wind howls, letting me know just how cold it is out there. But we're warm in here. The thermostat is turned up, we've got our blankets, and most importantly, we have each other. For better or for worse, we're family. Sometimes that's all you have. But when you're lucky, that's all you need. Merry Christmas, everyone, wherever you are. _

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Author's Notes

Merry Christmas one and all! Not much to say here, this is just meant to be a special little update for the holiday. Although I would like to take the time to keep you updated on the status of the story. I'm still working on Ceremony Of Innocence, but it's moving along very quickly. At this point, I'm expecting IG to return from hiatus with a brand new chapter on January 16. The story should then resume its normal production schedule. I hope that the information pleases everyone. I like to make everyone happy when I can. Which isn't often enough, lately, I'm sorry to say, but I'm doing my best.

At any rate, before I go, I'd just like to thank everyone who nominated this story for all those different categories. There are weeks where updating this thing starts to become a chore, but I've always continued to work at it because I know that everyone is counting on me. So many of you out there have shown this story a huge amount of dedication, and I do my best to reciprocate by updating the story as often as reasonably possible. My way of say thanks.

Anyway, it's like after 3AM now, and I want to go to bed tonight. So enjoy this second offering from me today. I'm just so thoughtful, I know. (Imagine wild sarcasm here). I hope everyone has a great holiday and I'll be seeing you all back here at IG soon! In the meantime, enjoy Ceremony Of Innocence. And as always, send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

12/25/05

3:11AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	26. Rejoined

"Good morning, sweetie." Helga smiled, planting a kiss on her husband's forehead and running her hands through his matted hair. Arnold blinked, his vision fluttering towards unconsciousness. A yawn escaped his throat, blasting Helga in the face. "Ugh, someone needs to brush his teeth!" Her smile quickly became a frown.

"Gladly." Arnold took hold of the blonde's bare shoulders and gave her a push, sending Helga toppling onto her shoulder.

"Nice to see you again too, Arnold." Helga stared up at the sun shining through the skylight, seemingly blessing what had recently become their marriage bed.

Arnold only rolled his eyes as he stretched, wanting to roll over and fall back asleep, but knowing that he should get up and make the most of the new day. In the end, the threat of a guilty conscience won out and Arnold threw his legs over the side of the bed, forcing himself to face the day. He completely ignored Helga, pulling open his bedroom door and moving downstairs to the bathroom.

Vexed, Helga rooted around for a shirt to wear over her meager foundation garment. Throwing a white tee shirt on, she scrambled after her husband, not about to let such a brush off pass. She stormed down the stairs after Arnold, each step full of purpose. She was about to turn the bathroom doorknob, uncaring what proceedings she might be interrupting. She was stopped, however, by a greeting from one of the boarders.

"Oh! Hello! Yes, you must be Arnold's wife. I am very pleased to meet you." Mr. Hyunh said, adjusting his glasses.

"Um, yeah. . ." Helga took a step back from the bathroom door, preferring that her first impression not make her appear like the lunatic she knew herself to be.

"Arnold did not mention that you would be so pretty. I wish you two all of the best in your marriage."

"Th-thank you." Helga wasn't sure what to say. She couldn't recall anyone who wished their marriage to be a success. To her knowledge, most people were gambling on how long it would take for she and Arnold to kill each other.

"You seem very familiar." Mr. Hyunh smiled. "Were you a playmate of Arnold's as a child?"

Suddenly, Helga recalled an encounter she had had with this man back in the fourth grade. She had been trying to sneak into the boarding house to retrieve an answering machine message and he had been one of the countless obstacles in her way. Sighing, Helga gathered fistfuls of her hair and pulled them to sides of her head in a crude imitation of the pigtails she had worn when she was much younger. The hairstyle had served her quite well, keeping her hair out of the way without making her appear any less intimidating. More than once she had considered resurrecting the look before ultimately deciding that it would make her appear too childish. She was still trying to find the right college to enroll in, a place where she could thrive. It wouldn't help her much if the picture on her record made her look immature. "How's this?" Helga asked, pushing aside the thoughts for another time.

"Yes!" Mr. Hyunh suddenly beamed. "You were the girl enrolled in public phone school. How did it go?"

"Oh, I, ah, well, you see, I dropped out to pursue a career in writing. I like it a lot better. They even made me editor of our school paper." She smiled.

"I see." Mr. Hyunh nodded. "You must be very talented. Arnold should be proud."

"He is." Helga agreed. At least, she thought he was. That was close enough, right?

"I want you to know, now that you are married, you are like a part of my family as well. Please, feel free to come to my restaurant whenever you like. You may have whatever you like, on the house."

"I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble." Helga shook her head.

"No, please. I must insist. You would be doing me a great honor."

"Well, if it would make you happy."

"Yes, it would. Very much!"

"Well then, sure, can't say I want to pass up on a free meal. Okay, you've got yourself a deal. . .ah, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Hyunh. Just call me Mr. Hyunh. I should get going. I have to make sure the restaurant is ready for lunch. Come by anytime you like. It's not too far from here. _El Patio_."

"I'll remember that." Helga nodded. "I guess I'll see you later." She waved.

"Yes, later. Goodbye." Hyunh smiled as he headed for the stairs that would take him down to the first floor, leaving a slightly befuddled Helga standing all by herself. "I wonder what that was about?" She shrugged, the sound of running water drawing her out of her thoughts. Judging by the sound of things, Arnold was in the process of enjoying his morning shower. The possibilities here were too much fun to count.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_There's something about a new year that always strikes a chord with me. No matter how things went over the last twelve months, we've got the chance to start over again with a clean slate. Some years, I need that fresh start more than ever. The last one was pretty turbulent for me. Maybe it's because I'm reaching a crossroads in my life where I'll have to start deciding what I'm going to do with it. Don't get me wrong, telling all of you stories and anecdotes each week is rewarding. It's not everyone who is blessed with the opportunity to get paid for doing what they love. Maybe that's what has me worried. It all seems too weird, too easy. Like somehow I'm taking the easy way out. I don't want to be accused of being lazy. I haven't really done anything resembling work since I was in high school. I know, that's probably not the best way to endear myself to a lot of you, but sometimes, the truth is more important. I've got to take off the fancy dress and reveal the shy suburban girl underneath sooner or later. It might as well be now._

_Sorry I've been away for a few weeks, but I've been indulging myself in the lethargy that always seems to come after the holidays are over. I helped Mom take the Christmas tree down, and I packed away my Menorah for another year. Once we finished putting away the rest of the holiday knick-knacks and putting the living room furniture back to normal, it began to sink in. When it's all said and done, all that's left is winter. Snow that used to be beautiful and magical suddenly becomes just a nuisance. The cold loses its charm and we're all begging for warmer weather. It's a little bit sad and melancholy. I guess I'd never really given the feeling a lot of attention in the past, but this year, everything seems to be magnified. I spent some time wondering what makes this year any different, and I've come to the dubious conclusion that, well, I'm getting old! I know, scary thought, right?_

_I remember earlier this week, when the weather warmed up a bit during the daytime, I climbed up onto the roof with my guitar and just started playing. I was pretty sad to discover that I couldn't play any of my old songs anymore. I guess my talent for the instrument is waning. But it's my own fault, I didn't keep up with it as much as I should have. I guess it's a good thing I never set out to be a rock star. I'm happy just being who I am. But I've always liked playing. It definitely got me through some of the rougher waters of adolescence. But then, being a teenager always seems difficult when you are one. Only too late, I've just now realized how easy I had it. I suppose it had to happen sooner or later. You wake up one day and realize to your horror that you've become your parents. Only Tuesday I was getting so frustrated paying my bills. I keep wondering how I spend all this money every month, turns out I'm nickeling and diming myself into a pretty big hole. But Mom said something to me that I need to learn to remember. Instead of complaining about paying my bills, I should be thankful that I have the money to pay them. And she would know, because more than once, she's sat looking at bills she couldn't pay. I haven't had to face that yet. I hope I never have to, but I'm a bit of a realist. Especially if I get married. Managing my own finances is tricky enough, soon enough I'll have a husband, and eventually we'll have children and have to file for bankruptcy! Maybe I should take on a second job to earn more money. But it looks like putting on a concert is out. Hey, if I put on a bake sale, will anyone out there make the trip?_

_But all kidding aside, I'm not sure what I should do next. Darren is taking two extra classes for fun at a local community college now that he's about to graduate. He only has one real course this semester before he gets his diploma. We're shopping around for a hall we can hold our wedding reception in, we want to take the plunge and set a date. We're not in a rush, but one of the things Darren and I promised each other on Christmas Eve is that we wouldn't become one of those couples that stays engaged for like three years. Of course, with Darren working and going to school, I usually only see him once during the week and on weekends. I don't really have a lot to do with myself. Sometimes I get in my car and I just drive. I retrace old school bus routes I used to travel along as a child. I've got a copy of the theme from 'Mahogany' by Diana Ross that plays as I roll down back roads with bare trees. "Do you know where you're going to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know?" And when I'm perfectly honest with myself, I find that I don't know. It's not that I'm unhappy, I'm just not certain what I should be doing with my life. I read Macie's postcards and I'm left with this feeling that I haven't really accomplished anything since high school. It's not a feeling that I'm accustomed to. I was always the girl who worked hard and played hard. Now I don't really know what to expect, what my next move should be. I feel as though I'm lacking something, that I've become fundamentally flawed. Only I don't know what's missing. But I guess none of this is either here or there. It's kind of a dirty trick for me to start moaning about my personal problems when I'm supposed to be entertaining you. I guess all those years of keeping a journal just make this stuff start to flow out of me whenever I pick up a pen. _

_I've been thinking about just getting away from here for awhile. Throwing my laptop and a suitcase into my Honda and just driving with no real purpose or destination. Maybe a change of scenery would do me some good. Courtney might not like it, though. But hey, with all I've done for her over the years, I figure that she owes me a favor or two. Besides, shaking up my normal routine will let a breath of fresh air into my life, not to mention my writing. I think that I'll relish the chance to write to you while sitting in a strange café or bar. A little ambience never hurts. And if I don't make myself get my act together, who will? I suppose I could always pour coffee for a living. I only say that because I actually look pretty good in one of those fancy aprons they make you wear. Another long story I'll have to remember to tell another time. _

_Okay, now I'm just starting to indulge myself again. I pride myself on knowing when it's best to put my work down and go have some fun. Or maybe I'm just giving into those obnoxious winter doldrums. They certainly seem to know all of my weak spots, but then, I haven't yet met anyone who is immune to them. Maybe it's best to think of them as the world's subtle way of reminding us to do something with our lives. So don't be surprised if I'm coming at you from location next week. Wherever I may end up, I promise to keep things adventurous. _

_All right, I'm out of here. I'll see you all next week. Just don't forget to leave something in my tip jar on your way out. Preferably something I can spend._

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"I drink too much." Lor MacQuarrie observed as she poured herself a shot of Jack Daniels, struggling not to look at the clock. It was afternoon. Technically. She frowned as she sipped from her glass, marring what she knew was an otherwise attractive face. Lor was not typically into girly stuff, and she had an athletic body. Growing up as a tomboy, the only girl among fourteen brothers, Lor found that she thought like a typical guy more often than not. When she was busy tending bar at night, she would often join in their dubious "rating game," wherein the various lonely men at the bar would assign each female occupant a numerical value, thus indicating the level of attractiveness of each woman. Of course, Lor was given special dispensation to rate guys instead. It came in handy on nights when her tip jar was low, she hadn't yet met the barfly who wouldn't discover some generosity if she gave him a high rating; perhaps flirt with him a bit, reach for some objects on the top shelf, and, when she was in a very giving mood, leaning forward on the bar and letting her shirt fall open. She usually reserved that last move for guys that were always going home alone. They had a tendency to be her most reliable customers. They left big tips, never caused trouble, and they possessed that adorable lost puppy dog quality which reminded her all too much of a childhood friend she had made the mistake of falling in love with. What angered her was that she had allowed herself to fall in love even when she had known it couldn't possibly last. But still, that type of guy was her soft spot. And sooner or later, they all began to look like Tino. And if she could give these lost souls a peek at the promised land, she felt strangely obligated to do so. The least she could offer them was a more intimate fantasy to go home with, compensation for a bunch of overpriced drinks and a life of diminished expectations.

That last thought stung a bit, as she realized that this was exactly what her life was adding up to. Diminished expectations. It had been years since she's left home, and she still hadn't resolved her issues with her father or her feelings for Tino. She hadn't even figured out who Lor MacQuarrie was supposed to be, or what her calling was, though she suspected that tending bar wasn't her purpose in life. Feeling sorry for herself probably wasn't it either. She was making a living, she was getting by, but she still wasn't doing anything constructive with her life. Lor had thought that bringing Helga into her life would change things. Despite their constant squabbles, Lor genuinely liked the girl. True, Helga Pataki was mental as anything. She was also a bit awkward and projected a sense of superiority that Lor could sense was phony from twenty miles away. Helga was the aggressive type, never letting other intimidate her, and she wouldn't take no for an answer whenever it came to something she wanted, no matter how trivial. But Helga rarely talked to her. It was clear to Lor that Helga thought of their living arrangements purely as a marriage of convenience. It was disappointing, to say the least. But perhaps only to be expected. Helga didn't strike Lor as someone who was big on baring her feelings to others. Fortunately, Helga was also an open book in that regard. Her expression tended to give away a lot. And even though Lor had only been living with the girl for a few days, she had quickly learned that the louder Helga yelled, the more she was hiding. And it was what lay beneath that façade that Lor was concerned about. She sometimes caught a glimpse of her roommate when Helga thought she was alone. Helga had that haunted look in her eyes that spoke of someone who had been thoroughly beaten by the game of love. Lor suspected that her outbursts were a feeble attempt to compensate for her emotional losses. And Lor knew only too well just how much a lost love could diminish you. She did not consider herself to be immune to those effects, and she had found over the years that the embrace of alcohol and stranger lovers who rarely stayed until morning were a poor substitute for what she so desperately wanted to regain.

Slamming her empty glass down on the countertop, Lor looked away from the bottle, putting it away. She had to refrain from drinking any more. From this moment onward, Lor resolve to reexamine the benefits that came with a life of sobriety. The irony that she had sought intoxicating pleasures in an effort to escape these very thoughts and feelings was not lost on her. But then, Lor had learned in her travels that life had a funny way of making people deal with their problems.

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"Well, Hoods, this is what we've been waiting for." Carl Foutley filled his lungs with the crisp air of Washington State, noting that it had a seemingly exotic bouquet.

"What? You mean the chance to stand around an airport lobby?" Robert asked. "It loses a lot of charm now that we're too old to get away with riding the luggage carousel."

"Yeah. . ." Carl said wistfully. "You know, I'm still banned from Bradley International Airport after that incident when we were in seventh grade."

"Is that why we had to fly out of Kennedy?"

"That, and the free upgrade to first class. I tell ya Hoods, I'm never flying coach again."

"Not unless they start serving those first class meals back there."

"And some Tab."

"So what's our first move?" Robert queried, anxious to work out a game plan.

"After we pick up our luggage? I say we scope out the hotel, unpack, and use the directory to find the Helga girl's parents. I want to get our work done for today so we can take it easy."

"Hey Carl? After we find her, do you think we could go to Seattle and visit the Space Needle? I've always wanted to stand up there."

"It rains a lot in Seattle, Hoods."

"I know. I'm just saying-"

"Fine. If we have the time, we'll go. But I want to check up on some of the local color here when we have some down time. This Hillwood city is pretty big. Who knows what we might find! A cornucopia of opportunities waiting in the steamy underbelly for us to discover!"

"One step ahead of you, Carl. There's a Museum of Medical Oddities here somewhere. I printed the information off of the net before we left. I packed it in my carry on." Robert gestured to the bag on his shoulder. "I didn't want to chance losing it. Or my underwear."

"And you were worried about pulling your weight!" Carl playfully punched his childhood friend in the arm. "The way I see it, with us on the job, ol' Broom-Hilda doesn't stand a chance of staying hidden for long."

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Helga tried unsuccessfully to keep the grin off of her face as she opened the bathroom door. She stepped inside and quickly shut the door, careful not to make much noise. She bolted the lock behind her. She was about to announce her presence when she thought better of it, deciding that there was more pressing business first. She tiptoed to the sink and found her toothbrush. She carefully opened the faucet, letting only a trickle of water out. She then smeared some toothpaste across the surface of the brush and began cleaning her teeth, taking extra care to brush her tongue to help kill any lingering signs of morning breath. She then rinsed, running her hand over her mouth and taking stock of her appearance. Sure enough, she looked like she had just gotten out of bed. Her hair was a bit askew, sticking out in places, and there was still some sleep in her eyes. Nonetheless, she knew she looked about as good as she was going to get given the circumstances. Flashing a winning smile that she hoped looked friendly, Helga decided to announce her presence. "Hey, Arnold!" There was a sound of a lot of splashing, and a loud thump in response to her call. "Arnold! Are you okay in there?"

"Helga! What the heck are you doing in here!" Arnold yelled.

"Well, I was brushing my teeth, and now I'm talking to you." She crossed her arms over her breasts, her smile dissolving into a scowl.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to take a shower?"

"I don't mind a bit." Helga shut the lid on the toilet and used it as a seat.

Arnold sighed. "That isn't what I meant, Helga."

"No?" She crossed her legs, wondering how far she could push him. "Oh, I see. You mean you want me to join you. Well, ordinarily I might say no, but I'm in a pretty good mood today and-"

"Helga! I'm not looking for company, I'm looking for privacy!"

"Oh, that won't be a problem, hun. I locked the door. Don't worry. It will just be. . .the two of us." Helga extended a leg outward, using her left foot to jiggle the shower curtain as though she were about to step in. She let out a very throaty laugh as she heard Arnold squirm inside of the tub. After a few moments, he seemed to realize that she had been teasing him.

"That wasn't very funny, Helga."

"Hmm, too bad. I thought it was."

"You're always like this, aren't you?" Arnold wondered, reaching for some shampoo.

"Like what?"

"You're always messing with me." Arnold said dryly, lathering up his hair.

"No." Helga shook her head. "Not always. Just now I could've come into that shower with you, but I didn't. I'm the one sitting here, practically throwing myself at you. You're the one who's cruel."

"I don't want to do that stuff with someone I don't have those kinds of feelings for." Arnold sighed. "Come on, Helga. Do you really want to be taken advantage of?"

"It's not taking advantage if it's what I want! But you wouldn't understand, would you? You've never been on the wrong side of love." Helga's breathing increased, and she punched her knees in anger. "You were the one who went through high school dating Rhonda Lloyd while half of the boys went home to nothing but. . .but stupid jerk-off fantasies!" She grabbed a towel off the rack and threw it at the shower curtain as hard as she could. "You've always had it easy. You get any girl you want! You even get the ones you don't! It's bad enough I've always let you hold onto my heart, but you don't even notice, do you? You don't even examine it from time to time and question why! You just keep it in a jar under your bed and hope that I'll go away. You won't touch me, you won't hold me, you fight me for every scrap of satisfaction! Well I have needs and feelings, you know! All my life, I've stayed away. Do you even have any idea how long I've worshipped the very ground you walk on? But I never asked, once. That's why I was so mean to you when we were kids. I knew that you didn't want me. I channeled all of my frustrations into you so that I wouldn't be some clingy girl trying to get you to notice her. But I was not always silent. I did try to make you notice me. Constantly. I tried everything I could think of to show something in myself you might be attracted to. But you never would. You never looked at me the way a boy looks at a girl. I even told you once, when I thought I was going to lose you forever. And you ran away from it. You didn't want to know anything about how I really felt. And I let you go. Do you know what it's like to kiss someone that means the world to you, and realize that they aren't kissing you back? That they just want to get away from you? No, you don't, do you? My entire life, I've always survived, known that I could do anything, so long as in the end, you might love me. That's all I've ever asked of the world. I've borne everything that's been thrown at me, knowing I could deal with anything as long as I could have you. But you're going to deny me even that, aren't you? And you know what? You owe me something, bucko. Not that you'll ever return the favor. Because you just don't like me, and you're never going to give me the opportunity to show you who I really am. You'll never see a girl who has always loved you for who you are since practically before you were able to walk on your feet. So freak you anyway!" Helga yelled, getting up and throwing the door open, slamming it behind her so that it rattled on its hinges. She couldn't stay in there a second longer. If there was one thing in life she knew she would never be able to handle, it was Arnold seeing her cry.

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Courtney motioned for Deirdre to join her in the cabin of her private limo. Deirdre hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside. "Wow!" The naïve girl exclaimed, wincing as she realized she was gawking.

"It really isn't very much." Courtney shook her head. "Actually, it doesn't even belong to me anymore."

"It doesn't? You mean it's rented?" Deirdre looked confused.

"After a fashion." Courtney pushed a red button on the door, and a window at the front of the cabin slid open, where they could look up to the front of the vehicle. "Winston?"

"Yes, Miss?" A kindly middle-aged fellow in a chauffeur's cap asked.

"Winston, I'd like you to meet my secretary, Deirdre. Deirdre, this is Winston."

"Pleased to meet you." Deirdre gave a kind of mock curtsy from her seat.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Deirdre." Winston nodded, then turned back to Courtney. "Where to, Miss?"

"The mall, Winston. We girls need a little something to take our mind off our troubles."

"Ah, in that case, might I recommend the sale at Lord and Taylor?"

"You may." Courtney smiled. "Drop us off by their entrance when we get there."

"Of course, Miss. I took the liberty of restocking the champagne. Please, enjoy the ride ladies. Just buzz if you need anything." Winston then pushed a button similar to the one Courtney had pressed, and the pane slid back into place.

Courtney turned to Deirdre and explained. "Winston has been with my family since before I can remember. Even after we lost everything, he stayed with us. He said he couldn't bear to leave Mummy and us children. Blake went to college earlier this year, and I was living. . .it doesn't matter where I was living." Courtney shook her head, deciding there were some things about herself she'd rather not reveal. "With Blake no longer at home, I talked to Winston and he agreed to come stay with me. Ever since, he's been my butler, chauffer, and only real friend. This limo is his. It used to belong to our family, but Mummy signed the deed over to Winston so we wouldn't lose it when Daddy's creditors started taking our things."

"It's okay, Courtney. You don't have to tell me." Deirdre tried to console her boss and now her friend.

"I have to tell someone. Winston is too kind. He indulges me, treats me like I'm still the same old Courtney Gripling you knew from junior high school. But I'm not. I wouldn't even be able to maintain the illusion if it weren't for him. Did you know that before I had Winston that I actually. . ." Courtney sniffed, "I actually had to get a driver's license!"

"That, ah, must have been hard for you." Deirdre stared at her legs, not sure how to respond to Courtney. She knew that for someone like Courtney, that very likely was a hardship. But she still couldn't reconcile it to her own life. Desperate for a distraction, she reached for a champagne bottle, handing it to Courtney. "Here, this will help."

"Thank you." Courtney sniffled again, running a hand through her hair and composing herself. They both laughed when they popped the cork on the bottle, clinking their glasses together in a toast. "I knew I was right about you." Courtney nodded. "You understand me. You know how hard it is for me sometimes, Deirdre. I'm not looking for sympathy or pity, only someone I can talk to who will understand what I'm going through."

"I'll do my best." Deirdre hesitated.

"Well so far, you're doing great." Courtney nodded. "Come on, we're going to pick you out the finest dress that credit can buy!"

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A steady knocking on the door caused both Arnold and Rhonda to glance at each other. Arnold was still nestled within the protection of her arms, his eyes looking upward to return her knowing look. Instinctively, she pulled him closer to her, his back pressing against her chest. They were silent, perhaps hopeful that the visitor would leave. When the next knock proved louder than all the others, Arnold was quickly disabused of that notion. Arnold began to stir, motioning to get up and respond to the intrusion.

"Don't go." Rhonda said simply, barring his progress with a quick twist of her legs. They bent gracefully at her knees and traveled ceaselessly onward, with feet perfectly suited to her form and toes that seemed elegant to his watchful eye. But there was a strength that came with the beauty, and Rhonda was exerting quite a bit in an effort to keep her love pinned.

Arnold did not respond in kind, but instead sought her hands with his own. "I'll come right back, I promise." He smiled at her.

"Every time you go, something pushes us a little further apart." Rhonda pleaded with him. "Please Arnold, I don't want to ruin this. Stay with me." She begged.

"We can't hide forever, Rhonda." Arnold argued, pushing himself beyond her reach. He stood up, finding a shirt and throwing it on, leaving the largely nude and pouting Lloyd to wait impatiently on his bed. He trotted down the hall and downstairs taking a deep breath and silently praying that it was Helga come back to him. Arnold hoped with all his might and opened the door.

The woman who stared back at him was indeed, blonde, but she had a more distinctive hairdo that Arnold wouldn't ever forget. But then, he hadn't met many girls who favored a rasta look. "Nadine!" Arnold breathed, unable to hide the impression that she was the last person he had expected to see.

"May I come in?" Nadine asked, breathing deeply.

"I-um-yeah, sure." Arnold stepped out of the way, allowing Nadine entrance. She was dressed in a pleasant, light blue blouse and a green knee length skirt.

"I heard about Helga." Nadine paused, as though she herself were unsure where she was going with this. "I just felt like. . .like I had to do something. You were always there for me when I was in a bad place. Even after I shut you out, you still tried. I don't think I could respect myself if I didn't make myself available to you."

"It's alright, Nadine. As you've obviously observed, I'm not in the best of places right now, emotionally speaking. But. . .I am talking. And I've found that talking is the first step towards getting over this sort of thing. Besides, I've always been much more concerned about you. Especially when I watched you shut everyone out of your life."

Nadine shrugged. "Okay, maybe it wasn't the smartest thing I'd ever done in my life, but if felt right at the time. I had to go through that."

"But whatever it was that made you feel so hurt, you didn't have to go through it alone, Nadine."

"Yes I did, Arnold. I know you don't agree with me, but I did. There are some things you have to do alone. When a caterpillar spins its cocoon, it doesn't bring other caterpillars in with it. They each have to undergo their own transformation, by themselves. I don't really know how else to explain it. But I did a lot of soul searching while I was, well, off the radar, as it were. And as you've noticed, I've only recently come out of my shell."

"I heard you had a little help." Arnold grinned.

Nadine looked back at him, eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and admiration. "Sid cut me out of my cocoon." She nodded. "He made me see that somehow, I would be okay after all."

"I just wish I knew what made you want to go into it in the first place, Nadine."

"It's a long story, Arnold. But I promise to tell you. Soon."

"I'd like that." Arnold smiled at her, just happy to see that someone he cared about was doing better.

"You seem distracted, Arnold. Are you okay?" She queried.

Arnold shrugged. "I was entertaining."

"Anyone I know?"

"Rhonda." Arnold nodded.

Nadine found herself laughing, a sound Arnold realized he hadn't heard from the girl in years. "Looks like all your ex-girlfriends are coming out of the woodwork."

"Well, Grandpa always warned me that I would wind up having girl trouble." Arnold chuckled. "I heard you hooked up with Sid. How are the two of you getting along?"

"Well. Mostly." Nadine sighed. "We're on a break, actually. We aren't having problems, it's just that Sid insists that I get back out there and start seeing some other people. He was afraid that we were getting too involved and that one day I would end up feeling like I missed out on someone better because I held him back. To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm even ready yet, but I don't have a choice. He put his foot down on this one."

"Sid cares about you, Nadine. It's like he said. He just doesn't want you to feel like you passed up on your chance at true happiness by settling on him. No matter how much it hurts, sometimes we have to step outside of our comfort zone and do things we wouldn't normally do."

"Part of me knows that. I'm just not used to it yet. I'm not really as socially developed as the rest of the gang thanks to my, ah, problem. You know, Sid is the first guy that I even saw after you. Which would make him only my second boyfriend." Nadine blushed. "Ah! Not that I'm trying to get you back or anything." Nadine waved her hands in front of her. "Not that there isn't a part of me that wouldn't like that, too. . ." She trailed off. "But I'm older now. I'm over you, Arnold. Um, mostly. Just don't make me testify." She giggled nervously.

"Deal." He grinned, offering the girl a reassuring hug. "I'm just glad that you're back. I always hated the way that things ended between us."

"So did I." Nadine sniffed, returning the hug. "I promise, Arnold. I'm going to take you out for some coffee and pie sometime soon. And I'm going to explain everything to you. I want us to be friends."

"We'll always be friends, Nadine." Arnold's smile widened. "I helped you dye your hair, remember? That's a classic friendship bond if I ever knew one."

Nadine positively beamed at the sentiment. "Thanks, Arnold. Um, isn't that usually a female bonding thing though?"

"Since when did we ever like to be normal." He laughed, and Nadine quickly joined in.

"You're too much, Arnold. I come here to help you, and as usual, you're the one cheering me up."

"Let me go fetch Rhonda, and it'll be a regular laugh riot. The three of us have so much catching up to do." Arnold winked, rushing upstairs. "Rhonda!" He called, walking towards his bedroom.

The rich girl with raven black hair seemed apprehensive. "I'm afraid to ask. Who is it!"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Someone we both owe a lot to." He answered cryptically. "Get dressed, this is going to be fun."

"Let me get this straight." Rhonda started. "You're saying that you'd rather spend the rest of the day talking with me and someone else instead of lying here with me in a state of undress?"

"What can I say? A time for everything, Rhonda." Arnold chuckled. Miss Lloyd responded by throwing her bra at him. "But I'll be happy to keep this as a souvenir." He grinned scandalously, folding the undergarment and stuffing it into his pocket.

"Give that back!" Rhonda squealed, but Arnold had already departed. Feeling a bit vexed, not to mention sexually frustrated, Rhonda pulled on her discarded panties and Caprini pants, then moved to straighten her shirt out before donning it. Rhonda resolved that whomever was waiting for her downstairs had better have a darn good reason for interrupting what had been shaping up to be a most pleasant afternoon. As fate would have it, she would not be disappointed.

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Author's Notes

I'm back, I'm bold, maybe I'm even beautiful! Okay, I guess we can probably forget that last one. But hey, it's okay, because _Instant Gratification_ is back! Some people have probably been wondering where I've gotten to over the past few weeks. Nothing too deep, I just seriously needed some downtime. I release a chapter almost every week, and when I put this story on hiatus, I jumped directly into _Ceremony Of Innocence_. So when I finished that, I found that I couldn't just dive back into the fray. I needed some time to see my friends, to play video games, to just lie around and do nothing. It did me a world of good. I hate it when writing starts to become less of a hobby and more of a chore. Especially a story like this, I don't want it to be a burden. So I took some time off to clear my head and get things together. And I'm definitely feeling refreshed. I hope that my work on this chapter reflects that. I tried to include as much as I reasonably could.

Even now, I find my time pressed. I had to get a new chapter of this out, and I'm trying to get some stuff together for the Awards Ceremony of Jarel Kortan's fanfic contest. We're seeking some help with that, so if anyone would like to contribute to the process of writing the ceremony, I know that I for one would appreciate it.

I'm also looking for a show of hands on how many people have been missing this story. I haven't updated it since Christmas Day, and it's been even longer since I've continued the story proper, so I'm assuming that by now, some of you must have been worried that I had forgotten it. I had originally only planned to take one week off, but I just couldn't find the motivation to get back to work on it last week, I was that lazy. And boy, did it feel good! But I have missed the weekly communication with fans. Reviews are more than just praise, but they validate that the hours I spend banging out each chapter week after week have value and purpose, that it's a constructive use of my time. There's nothing that makes me happier than knowing that I've moved someone with my words. Even if they didn't like it, what's important is that you feel something. Writing is a lot of hard work, stringing together the right words. Especially when it's a story like this. People are clicking on this link to be entertained, and if I fail in that, it means that I haven't accomplished anything. So there's a lot of responsibility that comes with this sort of thing. And there is no shortage of good stories out there, so the constant struggle is to get people to click on this one. Now obviously, may of you are fans that come back week in and week out because you just love this story, and that's very gratifying. I suppose it's also a double-edged sword, because with each week that goes by, the story becomes a little more inaccessible to someone who has never read it before. By now, the length is probably getting to the point where newcomers won't be reading it because it's just too much to take on. And I emphasize with that. I've been on both sides of these things, after all. I've been writing fanfiction for a long time, but I've only been working with Hey Arnold for a bit over a year now. Feels like longer, doesn't it? But after all this time, I'm beginning to feel like some of these kids are mine, even though Craig Bartlett conceived them many, many years ago and will always maintain a more intimate knowledge of them than any of us could hope for. I'm just a babysitter. Maybe we all are.

Boy, am I starting to wax philosophical or what? This is what happens when I step away from everyone for so long. I come back and start running off at the mouth. Probably doesn't help that I come from a long line of talkers. At any rate, back to the point. I tried to have this chapter include a little of everything, to make it like a good springboard for jumping back into the story, especially since I was on hiatus for over a month. Nevertheless, there was some stuff I ultimately had to decide against. Sid and Nadine do not appear together in this chapter. While I'm a huge fan of Nadine, I felt that putting her into this update twice would be a bit presumptuous, and it was much more important that she show up in the Arnold/Rhonda scene. Ergo, I scuttled the Sid/Nadine bit, and elected instead to have Nadine talk about Sid with Arnold. I'm actually cheating a bit, too. I'm writing these notes before I've finished the chapter. I thought I was done, but it just occurred to me that there's no footage here of Courtney and Deirdre, so I guess I'm going to have to do something about that. Man, this is going to be a long chapter, my fans are getting spoiled!

Forgive me for not sending out some review responses this week, but I'm really working up until the last second here to get everything in, and I've still got a bit of writing left to do! But I wouldn't want to send people home empty handed. So I just want everyone who left reviews for the last few chapters of IG, and my recently completed COI, to know that I appreciate your wonderful words more than you will ever know. Without such loyal and devoted fans like you, there would be no story. You give me the courage to keep going on even when I feel like I don't have anything left in me. It is your wonder and curiosity and constant begging for more that helps me find the strength to keep on going. I couldn't ask for a group of better fans. Thank you so much for your dedication and your love. If you keep responding, I'll keep writing. That's a promise!

Lastly, I just wanted to point out to anyone who cares that I'm still attempting to keep the story as realistic as possible. Awhile back, I had Ginger bemoaning the traffic on an interstate. I drive on it everyday, so I know exactly what she's talking about. And from this chapter, I'm very familiar with Bradley International airport, it's only about 45 miles from my house and is the airport of choice for most of us in Connecticut, but it's not unheard of for some people to fly out of Kennedy. Just thought I'd let you know.

Not that there's ever a time when I'm not interested, but I'm especially curious to see what people think of how I handled this return to _Instant Gratification_. Was it everything that you'd hoped for? Something I forgot? Perhaps you'd like to see. . .Gerald and Phoebe? Tune in next week, they'll be here. They would've been here this time, but I'd like to go to sleep before the sun rises tonight. Anyhow, unless you're new here, you must know how this works by now. Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

01/30/06

4:23 AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	27. Clearing The Air

Helga burst into the room she had been thinking of up until now as her honeymoon suite. Now she saw it as what it really was. The setting of a fantasy that was never going to become a reality. The room seemed less real to her as she opened her suitcase and began throwing some of her dirty clothes into it. They weren't much. There were some tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn't have time to cry now. She would have the rest of her life for that. It seemed funny to Helga, how much things had changed in her life in the course of a week. It had been so perfect when she started, everything had felt so right. Sure, Arnold was mad, but it was okay. She knew she could work on him, get him to respond to her. There were a few times when she thought it might even be working. He still held all of the same qualities she had fallen in love with as a child. But maybe that wasn't enough. She couldn't force him to love her. And even if she could, what kind of love would that be? But what angered her the most was that she just couldn't stop loving him? Why? Why couldn't she ever bring herself to move on?

There was a rapid pattering of feet coming up the attic steps, and then Arnold was there. Helga was actually impressed, she had figured he would let her go without even a fight. "Helga?" He asked her. His voice was calm and even, but then, what had she expected? Arnold almost never raised his voice in anger.

Helga blew some air out of her lungs and stabilized herself. She bit back the depressing feelings that were clouding her mind. She wasn't going to let Arnold see her feeling like such a mess. "What do you want, Arnold? Aren't we done here?"

"No. We aren't."

"What, come to make me feel like a bigger fool than I already do? Don't worry, I think I can manage that without your help."

"I'm not here to make a fool of you, Helga. Actually, I came to ask you to stay?"

"_Stay! _And just why the hell would I want to do that?"

"Because I thought about what you said. And it made me get to thinking."

"It's never been your strong suit."

"Look Helga, do you want to hear me out, or do you just want to make jokes at my expense until I change my mind?"

Helga exhaled sharply, then pushed her suitcase to the side and sat down on Arnold's bed, crossing her legs. It took every last ounce of her strength not to give his body a once over when she realized he was only wearing a bathsheet, tied around his waist. She found herself staring at her hands, folded in her lap. Her fingers seemed to work feverishly, as though unsure what to do with themselves. "Okay, fine. I'm listening." Helga managed to get out, sounding even less confident than she was feeling inside.

"Back in the bathroom, you said something that really got to me about. About. . .you said that I would never get to see who you really are. And I can remember that sometimes, when we were still kids, well, you could be really cool and even fun when you weren't so busy trying to give me a hard time. Do you remember that time in fourth grade, it was Thanksgiving and we were doing Mr. Simmons' play?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"We kind of met by accident the next day. We weren't having very good Thanksgivings and, well, we spent most of ours together. And you weren't all mean or nasty to me. And I remembered after we went to Mr. Simmons house and saw what he had to deal with, and,well, I kind of felt a little. . .bonded to you."

"Bonded?"

"Yeah. I'd always felt that I was the only one with such a weird, dysfunctional family." Arnold sighed. "It was nice having someone to share that kind of stuff with that seemed to really understand."

"My family's no picnic." Helga shrugged. "But I know you found that out for yourself. But we don't get to pick our families. Believe me, I certainly wouldn't have picked mine."

"But you've done alright for yourself. So have I. "

"I get by. But I want more, Arnold. That's why-"

"Why me, Helga?" Arnold cut her off. "Look at me, I'm pretty messed up. I just went through a really difficult breakup with Rhonda."

"I know. I watched you from afar. I was always watching, Arnold. And I won't lie to you. I was so happy when you two broke up, but. . .I was also so sad whenever I saw you with that look on your face, like you'd had your guts ripped out. It killed me to know you were going through that. And I so desperately wanted to be there for you, to just come running up and throw my arms around you and tell you that I was your guardian angel, that I had come to save you. But I couldn't. You were. . .you are Arnold Short. I'm no one. I'm just Helga Pataki."

"It's just a name, Helga. I choose who I am, who I want to be. So can you."

"I'm not like you." Helga shook her head.

"No, you're not. That's what makes you unique."

"And look where it's managed to get me in life. Check me out now. The only good thing I have going is my rapidly crumbling marriage to you."

"Why?" Arnold asked again. "Why do you want to be married to me. What do you like about me so much? There's nothing special about me, Helga?"

"I can't tell you." Helga shook her head.

"Can't, or won't?"

"I can't! Arnold, I could spend the rest of the day trying to explain it and I still wouldn't get anywhere, not anywhere at all! But I know, I know that you're the boy. All I've ever wanted is to be your wife. Since I was little. I mean, really little."

"How little?" Arnold asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Does it matter?" Helga threw her arms into the air. "Look, Football Head. You had me at hello. Literally. You always have! Satisfied!"

Arnold's response was not one that Helga flavored. He was laughing at her. She scowled menacingly at him, and suddenly, Arnold wasn't looking so amused. "I. . .you're not joking, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Um. . .I don't really know what to say, Helga."

"Then don't say anything. Believe me, I'd rather you didn't."

"You were in love with me even back when I was dating Nadine?"

"Well before that. But of all the girls in our class that you've dated, casually or seriously, she was my favorite. I always envied Nadine more than any of the others. Even Rhonda. That rich bitch wasn't your kind of girl, Arnold."

"Don't talk about Rhonda like that!" Arnold growled. "She's not that way, not really."

"Sorry. Look, strange as this might seem, I really don't want to sit here and talk about all your ex-girlfriends."

"Why didn't you ever ask me out, Helga? I was on the market several times in high school. You had chances."

"Would you have said yes?"

"Well. . .I don't know. Probably not." Arnold amended when Helga gave him a look indicating she knew he was being coy.

"That's why I didn't ask you."

"Fair enough." Arnold nodded.

"So, you really love me, huh?"

"Yes, Arnold. I really love you. Sometimes more than others." Helga rolled her eyes.

"Then maybe we should explore that. Helga, our entire lives, we've hardly even known each other. But if you really feel this way, then I don't just want to dismiss everything that you've said to me. So maybe we can work this out."

"Arnold, all I've ever-"

"I'm not promising anything." He immediately interrupted. "I just want to give this a chance. We've only been married for a week. We've still got almost three months left.So let's just see where this leads."

"You. . .you're serious, aren't you?"

"Quite serious." Arnold smiled. "Unless, of course, you object?"

"Arnold, you've given me a wonderful idea."

"What kind of idea!" Arnold asked, feeling a little wary.

"What do you say we go get some breakfast, and then I'll tell you." She winked, extending her arm. Arnold stood for a moment, taking a bit too long to figure out what he was expected to do. Finally, he stepped towards the bed and pulled his wife up. "Took you long enough!" Helga laughed, giving the boy a little peck on the cheek. "Well then, I suppose I'll let you get dressed, and we'll see what I can rustle us up for breakfast."

"Grandma usually takes care of that."

"I know. But this morning, I'm cooking for you. There's more than one way into your heart, Arnold. And I won't stop until I've tried every one." She grinned, then stepped out the door and down the stairs. Arnold was left shaking his head in wonder.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_I knew I had arrived when I came across a solitary little place with a sign out front that read "General Store." I'd been driving down some lonely state roads, going through nothing but forests for nearly an hour. This is what I was looking for. I pulled into the General Store and got myself a few supplies. Not too much. A twelve pack of Diet Coke, some snacks, and a few TV dinners in case I had trouble finding a decent restaurant, or just decided to stay reclusive. I asked the proprietor about places to stay, and she directed me to this lovely little bed and breakfast. Turns out, it's a cabin on a lake. A big lake. And a big cabin. This room is bigger than the one I have at home! The bed's a little more comfy too. My Capital One card already has smoke coming off of it. But I guess that's the way it is when you travel. I almost didn't get off the bed this evening. It's clear and cold and we're getting some snow. Nothing I'm too afraid of, and I can get a ride if I have any trouble. _

_Oh, right. Where am I? Right now, I'm sitting in a rustic cafe. It's kind of like something you see out of a movie. Everything is made of wood. The lighting is dim. It's cold and dark outside, a light snow is falling outside the window. There's some live entertainment, just a local musician who plays these soothing, instrumental melodies. I've got my latte next to me, and I'm typing away on my laptop. I'm probably not getting very much work done. I'm making judicious use of the wireless connection in here. But this is about as sleepy a town as you can find. And that's exactly what I'm looking for. It's quiet here. Just what I need. A place where I can get away from it all, stop thinking about everything at once and just breathe, sort my thoughts and get my direction. It's a little scary to be as old as I am and still have no idea exactly who Ginger Foutley is. And I want to be able to answer that question with confidence before I change my name to Ginger Patterson. I want to know what I'm getting into, and let Darren know what he's signing up for. _

_Already I can say one thing for certain. I like this. The whole atmosphere is starting to bring back memories for me. It reminds me so much of being at the Avalanche Arts Academy. I went there for a whole semester back when I was in Junior High School. I have a lot of memories from that place, some better than others. And even though there are some things I'd rather forget. . .I have to admit that there is a small part of me that always wondered what would've happened if I had chosen to stay there. I find myself thinking of these things a lot lately, going over all the major decisions in my life, questioning whether or not I made the right choice. The hardest thing is that maybe there isn't a real way to know. Which is why I probably shouldn't obsess over these kinds of things to begin with, but here I am anyway. I guess maybe it's just human nature. This is the kind of thing we do. The whole world's crazy, right? Yeah, that's what I thought too. _

_So really, who am I? I'm the girl with red, curly hair who just kicked her sneakers off in a public cafe because she doesn't care what people think of her. I'm the girl with a strong value system that I'm willing to walk the line for even though it often lands me into trouble. I'm the girl that somehow manages to turn out stuff that people want to read even after I question the entertainment. Seriously people, what's up with that? Um, not that I'm complaining, but your devotion to my column and my books is really overwhelming. When I get the quarterly sales figures, sometimes I have do a double-take. And it's not as though I'm getting rich or anything. I'm making a living, and I'm fine with that. I didn't take up writing to become a millionaire. I don't even own a house! But I guess I just never expected to get this far. You have to understand that often times, the stuff I write here is stuff I would've just scribbled into a journal and forgotten about. The writing is the release. Or at least, it used to be. Now I'm not so certain anymore. Things have changed. I find that I look forward to things like fan mail and book signings. You all make me feel like a contributing member of society, like I have a reason and purpose. I guess that's one of those fundamental things that everyone seeks. I still don't even know just what it is about me that people seem to like so much. Do I just have one of those faces? Does my voice really come through in my writing? Do I make people comfortable by sharing my life experiences. If so, maybe I'm the one taking comfort. If anyone else out there is leading the kind of crazy life that I am, then I already feel better. Maybe I'm not such a hopeless case after all._

_The snow is still falling outside. Each little snowflake unique in its own way. And so are we. But each snowflake is nothing alone. They have to chain themselves together to make a difference, weaving a tapestry to blanket our lawns and streets and mountains and rooftops. They each join together to form something greater. Is that, then, what our true purpose in life is? A brotherhood of men and women that ultimately help us achieve greatness as a species? I don't know, it just seems a little far fetched. If that were true, wouldn't we spend more time finding ways that we're all similar instead of throwing up walls and barriers because of our differences. Maybe I'm just being an idealist now. I'm certainly not about to give a political speech, that's in the writer's handbook. If I told you what my values are, I'd just polarize all of you, and that's not what it's all about. Besides, who really wants to get into all of that nonsense, anyway. We're better than that, and better than whatever differences divide us. _

_Okay, wow, maybe I'm starting to sound a little preachy after all. Sorry, it isn't intentional, really. Some days I just don't know what I'm doing when I start writing. I guess that's the chance you take when you decide to read my column. Or maybe I'm just covering up my own feelings of fear and inadequacy. I decided to take this trip so I can find myself, but I've learned from enough books and movies that sometimes, finding yourself can be pretty painful. You might even learn some things you wish you hadn't. As a child, I thought I grew up kind of normally. It wasn't until I became a teenager that I started to notice that some of my friends were better of than I am. And it really didn't strike me just how different myself and someone like Courtney was until she became a much larger part of my life. It's amazing how much things can change, how our worlds expand exponentially every year while we're growing up. They say it's our youth experiences that go a long way towards determining who we are, who we become. I'm inclined to agree. Maybe that's what makes this so funny, that I don't know who I have become in spite of the fact that I was present for all of my major experiences and choices. But I can't mete out some kind of pattern or answer. I don't know where I'm going, I don't understand the things that life is showing me. So I guess that's giving me kind of a downer feeling. _

_When I look around this little main street cafe, I like the feeling I get. There's almost a feeling of contentment and family here. These people all know each other. And I'm a stranger, but not an unwelcome one. It's as though I can sense them feeling me out, trying to figure out what to make of me. And I think I would like to be one of them, at least for a little while. One of the servers has been flirting with me a bit, but he seems nice enough. I almost feel guilty, knowing I'm going to have to disappoint him, but sometimes life just can't be helped. Nice guys don't deserve getting their hopes up for nothing, though. I'll try to let him down easy. The local musician's group is playing some Pachelbel. And the waiter that likes me just freshened my latte. I wiggle my feet together in a kind of anticipation. Yes, I think I could learn to like it here, at least for a little while. There's something about this place that speaks to me. Something whispered, but good. A girl could get used to this. I only wish you could see my smile. Hello, world. Foutley's back!_

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"How's Rhonda doing up there?" Nadine asked as Arnold reappeared in the living room.

"She's getting dressed." Arnold blushed.

"I'm sorry." Nadine turned beet red, paling Arnold's embarrassment. "I had no idea that I was, ah, interrupting you."

"It's not what you think." Arnold tried to explain.

"It's not?"

"Well, maybe sort of. But we weren't, um, _doing _anything. We were just, uh getting reacquainted."

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Nadine giggled.

"It's always been complicated between Rhonda and me." Arnold sighed.

"You know, Arnold, I'm beginning to regret not staying around for us to get complicated!"

"Nadine!"

"What! Oh come on, Arnold, you know I was really attracted to you. Back in high school, I wanted to ask you out so badly. I remember sitting next to you in biology class. I wanted you to notice me so badly. I used to get up at 5:30 every morning just to make myself ready for you. And I was spending my Saturdays at the mall, buying outfits to accentuate all my best features. Rhonda really helped a lot with that. It was like her shining moment in the sun. All those years of being my best friend, and I was finally calling on her area of expertise." Nadine giggled. "I thought I was going to go crazy when you finally asked me out!"

"Really? Because as I recall, you looked pretty coy."

"That was my coaching from Rhonda. Don't worry, rest assured I drove her absolutely crazy for the rest of the day. I wanted to cut all my classes and just run off with you!"

"You? Cut classes? But you were always one of the more scholarly girls in our class."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I didn't know how to have fun. I don't seem to recall any complaints from you when we went to the Homecoming game and _accidentally_ got lost under the grandstand."

Arnold laughed. "Yeah, that was some game, all right. I seem to remember some fireworks."

"Well, I don't know about that, but you're certainly playing with matches." Rhonda appeared near the bottom of the staircase, every step she took seemed full of purpose, and yet, she also moved with an intricate grace. Her bearing was both regal and sexy, and as she strolled into the living room proper, Arnold couldn't miss the swagger in her hips that came naturally with Rhonda. She was on the prowl, as she usually did when other women were around. A tigress out to defend her territory. It brought a smile to Arnold's lips. It was great to see Nadine again, to relive old memories. And he wasn't above flirting with the blonde, she was still cute and had a pleasing figure. But he wasn't looking to get back together with Nadine. Now that she was back, he was certainly ready to call Nadine his friend again. But he already had too many women in his life already. Soon, one would have to go. He couldn't crowd Rhonda or Helga any further.

"I'm glad you could join us, Rhonda. Please, make yourself comfortable." Arnold grinned.

Rhonda shot him a look as she sat down on the sofa. Arnold wondered just how comfortable she was without her support wear. If she was in discomfort, it didn't show. Rhonda was good, quite good. "So, Nadine, what brings you here?" Rhonda asked, crossing her legs.

"Actually, I came to see if there was anything I could do for Arnold. I heard about what happened with Helga, and I had a little time, and, well, here I am."

"How's Sid doing?"

"Good. Really good. He's actually starting a new job on Monday."

"And how are the two of you getting along?"

"Sid is so good to me." Nadine shook her head, as though confused. "I've never had anyone be so nice to me before, never known a boy who treated me so tenderly. . .except you, Arnold." Nadine looked at him, then turned to her childhood friend. "Don't worry. I'm not here to win him back. I want Sid, really."

Arnold nodded. "He can be a little rough around the edges sometimes, and a little paranoid from time to time, but he's a good guy."

"I know." Nadine agreed.

"Well then, if you're not here to be another threat to me and my guy here. . .Nadine!" Rhonda squealed, jumping out of her seat. She ran to her friend and hugged the girl, and it was only a moment before the two were chattering away in the way that only girls can.

Arnold was beginning to grow bored when both girls turned and looked at him, seemingly sizing him up, then began making a series of whispers to each other. And of course, the giggling. There was always giggling.

"What's so funny?" Arnold asked them, beginning to grow self-conscious.

"Nothing." Rhonda quickly told him.

"Really?"

"We're just swapping some stories about you." Nadine's smile widened.

"Is this something that's supposed to help me with my current situation?"

"Not really. It just makes us feel good." Rhonda's smile, though cheeky, was also gorgeous.

"Don't worry Arnold. Rhonda and I have a plan. We're going to help fix this Helga problem for you, I promise." Nadine gave him her most earnest expression.

"Thanks Nadine." Arnold sighed. "But why do I have the feeling that this just won't be enough?"

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Author's Notes

Yup. That's it. This is all you get. I'm flat out exhausted and basically had no time to write at all this week. I should be in bed now, but I wanted to make sure you all had something to read this week. I make it a habit not to miss an update, especially after just taking a two week vacation. I really wanted to do a lot more with this one, believe me, but it's a case of me just not being able to keep my eyes open and concentrate. It's terrible, and I hate it! I have just started a new, full time job, and I hope that things go well for me. Unfortunately, I don't know how much time I'll have to write this next week, but hopefully more this time. I'm just falling apart right now, which is why I could only give you all a bare bones release this week. I carried on with the most important threads, anyway. I can only hope you won't be too upset with me. I love this story, and I love bringing it to you all, and I hate it when it ends up not being everything I want it to sometimes, but alas, there are some things I just can't control, not that this keeps me from trying.

But enough whining from me. I'll try to make it up to everyone next week. Let's make with the happy stuff. Ladies and gentleman, this chapter notes two great landmarks in the history of this story. I've just passed the 150,000 word count, and all of you wonderful fans have pushed me past the 200 mark on reviews. I love it! I've never taken on anything of this magnitude before successfully, but I have such loyal, thoughtful, and wonderful fans who come back every week to read more. And you always say the most flattering things I can imagine. I have to tell each and every one of you that I appreciate every single review you leave. That's why I endeavor to not only read them, but to try to take the time to respond to each one. You make up the best group of fans anyone could ever ask for. I could never find the strength to keep working on this story without you. Thank you all, from the very depths of my heart and soul, and please, keep coming back!

Looks like I have a few reviews that need to be responded to here, so let me get that underway.

Animefreak03, it's nice to see that you wanted to start reading the story again. I'm disappointed to hear that you stopped reading it because you're not sure what the pairing is. I'm certainly not about to tell someone to read something that they don't like, but when I set out to create this story, I wanted to paint an accurate picture with a lot of details. I wanted to do something that no one has done before. So yes, I'm featuring some other possibilities, and no, I can't guarantee you that Arnold is going to end up with Helga. Love is not a sure thing. It's something you have to be willing to take a chance on. But if you're found constantly wondering who Arnold will end up with, then I'd say that my story is having the effect I want it to. Don't worry, when the time comes, there will be a decision, and it will be clarified very much. But if this approach makes you nervous, I'm not offended. Unfortunately, I can't tell you who Arnold will end up with, because it would ruin all the fun of the story, I'm sorry. But I hope that you'll keep reading anyway. Oh, and if you used to be a little like Helga as a child, it's understandable why you prefer her. You can always cheer for her. It might help!

Laurel, you may feel free to drop me an e-mail anytime. And your concern is appreciated. I just needed some serious downtime without distractions. I could probably use more, but I fear that then I will never get back to updating this story regularly. And it felt good to put everyone in the story last week, I needed a springboard to dive back into this thing full throttle. It's just too bad it's like I'm stuck in first gear this week. It looks like Phoebe and Gerald won't be showing up this week due to my need for sleep. Probably next week, though. I do have plans for them everyone, really. Their roles are a bit more complex than one might imagine, but this will all come in time. I'm glad that you liked the shower scene, I actually had a lot of fun writing it. As for where Arnold's views on Helga's turned, I'll illustrate it properly when the story reaches that point, I promise. I didn't really get everything done I wanted to with Nadine or Rhonda this chapter, but I'm having way too many issues staying awake, so this is what we get—for now. I hope you were able to watch some of _The Weekenders_, but for the record, Tino is the blonde, nervous one. Glad to see you back every week, Laurel. And for being such a loyal lackey. Stick with me and I'll try to make next week's offering better.

A special shout out to Ri who was kind enough to lift my spirits this week when I really needed it. Now if only I can find someone kind enough to lift my eyelids, everything will be okay. I guess no one said this writing stuff would be easy, right? But seriously, thanks for being there for me. I might not have found the strength to even try this week otherwise.

Okay, now that I've covered all of the good stuff, it's time to get you pumped for next week. I'll work really hard to pump something grand out for you all next week, okay? Forgive me for this one, but I'm only human. Everyone have a great week, and I'll see you back here in seven. Days, that is.

Lord Malachite

02/06/06

3:12AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	28. Things Change

It was with a bit of wariness and trepidation that Arnold found himself stepping downstairs towards the kitchen. Arnold wasn't normally one to be overly concerned with fear of the unknown, but this was an exception he was only to willing to make. Helga was cooking. And he wasn't exactly sure what that meant. Given the rocky start that morning, he didn't put it completely past his wife to seek revenge. And yet, she had seemed so emotional only a few minutes ago. Arnold just couldn't figure out why Helga seemed to think this was so important. Why of all the people in the universe she would've wanted to do this with him. Helga Pataki was not the romantic type, she never had been in all the years he had known her. Throughout high school, she had seemed to resist the few advances that had been made upon her, thrusting herself into the world of the school paper. Helga certainly hadn't been someone that he'd kept tabs on, but he couldn't remember ever seeing her around any of the hangouts with anyone on her arm, or even when they would pass in the school hallway, for that matter. Helga had always been rather plain, and neither her features nor her personality had softened much in their adolescent years. But she wasn't outright unattractive. She did have a nice smile. A very nice smile. The boy to girl ratio was such that there were very few people who went through high school unmatched. Clearly, Helga had been single by choice. But why? Perhaps it was worth asking her when an opportunity presented itself.

As Arnold reached the bottom of the staircase, he took a moment to listen to the sounds of the usual boarding house banter. Entering the kitchen, he could hear the sound of something sizzling in a pan on the stove. Helga stood over the flame, one of her better smiles on her face as she coaxed her creation into breakfast, he assumed. He moved closer to the range and found that Helga was paying rapt attention to some eggs, while there was bacon frying in a smaller pan. "Smells good." He smiled, looking at his wife.

Helga spared him a quick glance, then swirled the egg pan around a few times. "I used to cook breakfast for Bob and myself whenever Olga wasn't around. I'm pretty good at this."

"I thought you said you hated your father?" Arnold asked.

"I do, sometimes. Often." Helga amended immediately. "But I guess at the end of the day, there's no escaping the fact that he's my father, even if he isn't a very good one."

"I'm sorry that you two don't get along."

"So am I." Helga's eyes took on a far-off look, as though she were reflecting. With all the hardship Helga usually visited on him, sometimes it was easy to lose sight of the fact that she had plenty going on in her own life. Arnold briefly wondered if this was what had made her so difficult and aggressive in her childhood, a girl lashing out with pain in a vain attempt to displace the pain she was constantly being steeped in at home. For a reason he didn't quite understand himself, Arnold reached for her left hand. The move seemed to bring Helga out of her reverie, and she smacked his hand with her spatula.

"Hey!" Arnold yelled, rubbing his sore hand.

"Huh!" Helga blinked twice, coming back to her senses and seeing her injured husband. "Arnold! Oh, geez, I'm sorry!"

"What did you hit me for!"

"Reflex." Helga said sheepishly.

"Reflex?"

"Bob used to try and snatch pieces of bacon before they were thoroughly cooked. The guy's crazy for meat." Helga shook her head. "Did I burn you?"

"I'll live." Arnold sighed, ripping a paper towel from the dispenser hanging on the wall.

Helga gave him an uneasy look. "I'll bring this over when you're done. Sit down."

Phil laughed as he watched his somewhat dejected grandson take a seat opposite him at the table. "Oooh, she got ya good, didn't she Short Man?"

"I guess I should no better than to approach a woman who's slaving over a hot stove."

"Darn tootin'!" Phile agreed with the observation. "Y'know, Arnold, your Grandma used to be quite the cook back when we were young. I can tell you, she really took that saying about the way to a man's heart being through his stomach seriously. I don't know if I've ever eaten better in my life than when the two of us were newlyweds."

"How long ago was that, Gramps?" Ernie asked, spooning some of the cereal into his mouth.

"Not as far back as your rent is." Phil muttered. Ernie wisely chose not to say anything else. "She's a good woman, Arnold. Don't let her get away."

"I don't really have much choice." Arnold sighed, tugging slightly at the ring on his finger.

"Damn straight you don't!" Helga laughed, sounding considerably more jolly than she had moments before. She approached the table carrying a plate with several slices of toast, all sliced diagonally. Eat up boys, I'll have the rest of the meal up momentarily." Helga grinned. Arnold didn't wait to be asked twice, hunger was a powerful force. Arnold had barely finished his first slice when Helga approached the table with her eggs, doling out portions to her husband, her grandfather-in-law, and herself. She repeated the process with the bacon, then departed the table one last time to fetch some forks and the pot of coffee she had been brewing.

"Gee, Helga, maybe you should've taken a job as a waitress." Arnold observed as she poured them each a mug of coffee. "I think you've got a knack for it."

"I had a job as a waitress. I just didn't get paid for it. This is what I had to do every holiday since I was twelve. At least Olga took care of the cooking. But I was always the one that had to fetch everything. I can't remember the last time I had a hot Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, unless of course you count nuking it." Helga shrugged, finally sitting down and wasting no time in shoveling some of the food into her mouth before all the heat dissipated. None of the men were sure what to say to that, so they wisely said nothing. It was Phil who finally broke the silence, knowing he couldn't put off what he had to say any longer.

"You know, I'm proud of you two. I've always wanted this day to come for you, Arnold. I guess I never expected it to happen so soon, but hey, I'm ninety years old! I'm just happy I'm still here to see it!" Phil chuckled. "And you, young lady. I may not know all that much about you, but I can tell already that you'll make a fine wife. You now your way around a kitchen, you know how to put my grandson in his place, and I can tell just by looking at you that you really love him."

"You can?" Helga sputtered, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "Well, I. . ." She turned to look at her husband, suddenly feeling much bolder than usual. "Yeah, I guess I do. I've always loved Arnold."

"I'm sure you have." Phil smiled. "And I know that he's in good hands."

"If I have my way, he'll be in much more than my hands." She smirked.

"Helga!" Arnold blushed furiously at her use of such a blatant innuendo, while eating no less.

"Ho ho ho, she's a feisty one Arnold! You'd better watch yourself around her or you're gonna find yourself in trouble!"

"Who says he isn't?" Helga winked, pressing her advantage.

"You know, you two make it awfully hard for me to say this, but I think the time has come. Arnold? Helga? You'll always be welcome in our home. But I'm afraid I've got no choice but to evict you two."

"Evict us!" Arnold started choking. What was his grandfather thinking? "Why! Grandpa, what did we do?"

"Nothing." Grandpa shook his head. "I'm not sore with you, Short Man. But this is no place to raise a family. You two deserve better, and you need more than this. I'm sorry, Arnold, but if I keep letting you stay here, I wouldn't be doing you any favors. You need to have your own place."

"But we can't just pack up and leave!" Arnold protested.

"Well of course not, don't be silly. The rest of the boarders and I will help you!"

"Hey, speak for yourself Gramps!" Ernie piped up, suddenly a lot less interested in his meal than the new proceedings.

"You'll help or I'll start charging interest on the back rent you owe me." Grandpa stared him down.

"Sooooooo. . ." Ernie trailed off. "How's tomorrow sound for you two?" He turned to the newlyweds.

"We'll never find a place in our price range." Arnold stood up and started pacing.

"Arnold." Helga interrupted, but her husband ignored her.

"We may have to move to a completely different neighborhood. We'll never be able to see our friends!"

"Arnold. . ."

"What am I possibly going to tell Gerald!"

"Arnold!" Helga finally yelled, causing the boy to stop.

"What?"

"I already have a place."

"You're joking." Arnold practically choked.

Helga shook her head. "I like to think ahead. I put a deposit on it about two weeks ago. It'll be perfect for us honey, just wait until you see it!"

Immediately, Arnold's mind began running through the possibilities of what it would be like to live with Helga—without any other boarders as a buffer. "I need to sit down." Arnold stated, stumbling into his chair.

"Well, this sounds perfect." Phil clasped his hands together. "So when do we get to see this place?"

"How about after breakfast?" Helga winked. Phil readily agreed. Arnold began to worry that his earlier, uneasy feeling wasn't so unfounded after all.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_So I thought this was shaping up to be a good vacation. Well, remember that little coffee house I was coming to you from last week? Surprise, I'm still there! I wish I could say it's because the coffee is that good. But it's not. Well, okay, it is pretty good, but no quite worth ruining my little working vacation over. I'm just unlucky, that's all. I woke up in the middle of the night on my last night here with the heaves. Seriously bad ones. My chest still hurts when I laugh or breather too deep! And I got all the fun stuff with it. Aches, pains, chills, nausea, all the good stuff. I'd never spent such intimate time with a toilet before, and I think I made it worse on myself with anxiety. There wasn't anyone to take care of me. No mom. No Darren. No Robert. Not even Carl was here to help me. I've never been this alone before. There's always been someone there for me when I'm down. But I guess I have to step out of my safety zone sometime. I can't spend my whole life wondering what I might become, I have to go out there and become it. Truth to tell, I'm a little disappointed in the way I handled this. I look back on my reaction now and have to wonder if I'm being whiny. I can't depend on everyone to take care of me. And I'm not normally a person who dumps her needs on others. So why did I spend most of the last week going between my bed and the bathroom, wishing that someone was here? I was about ready to save myself bald by the end! My hair actually hurt, especially when I tried to tie it back with scrunchies. And when I let it hang loose, it would get in my way whenever I was sick. And I couldn't even shower because the warm water made me nauseous. Taking a long bath may have been the best part of getting better. I didn't know that being clean could feel so good! I gave myself two extra days to make sure I had fully recovered. I had half-expected to get sick again last night and start the process all over again. But it seems that I'm fine. And I'll be taking off after I finish this week's column. I've got my Triple-A card at the ready and I plan on exploring some roads less traveled as I head back south. I might have to come back this way to see Maine when the summer comes. But I think that I've seen enough movies in my time that I know better than to head that far north during the winter without a four wheel drive. I'm not that rugged!_

_This coffee house seems a different in the morning. A little less magic, a little more reality. The sun's shining in through the window, and water is dripping down as the snow melts. You can see a lot of icicles coming from the overhang at the front door. There's a girl roughly my age behind the counter, organizing things for the lunchtime rush, no doubt. There isn't anyone else in here but an elderly man and myself. No live entertainment. But all the smells are still here. Coffee beans, spices, flavors, the oven's baking a variety of homemade treats for the people who will run in on their lunch hour, probably with an armload of lattes and cappuccinos and espressos and plain old joe in all its blends, once the word gets out that they're making a coffee run. That sort of thing is hard to keep quiet! But I haven't had a lot of experience with that, so maybe I'm not the right one to be talking about that. I haven't exactly done much in the way of real jobs. When I was in high school, I worked in the local library some weeknights and on the weekend. Talk about the perfect job; I always had my Friday and Saturday nights free! Plenty of time for dating and hanging with my friends and just being me. Plus I never had a tough time doing research papers. The head librarian would let me lock up as long as I promised not to make a mess. So I might've been a little bleary eyed at school from time to time. But I always got my papers done ahead of schedule, and I got the marks to prove that my system worked. Lucky High School was good to me. I miss it, no matter how many times I swore to myself that I never would while I was there. It just goes to show you the kind of crazy, mixed up world we live in. How much time do we spend looking backwards, asking ourselves how we managed to get here? And sometimes, there is no clear answer. Life comes together as some sort of crazy tapestry that doesn't make complete sense. But maybe we shouldn't think about it so hard. Let the patterns come naturally, instead of trying to impose our will on them. Maybe that's what makes real beauty. But I guess if we all did what came naturally, the world would be crazy. I mean, crazier than it already is. I've gotten a bit crazy myself from time to time, no question about that. Gone overboard with a few of my courses. Let some of my crushes get a little out of hand. But hey, I was young and I did dumb things. It was all part of my training. Now that I'm an adult. . .I still do dumb stuff. I guess that I can't change who I am. But if I changed, you might not want to read my column anymore, so maybe that isn't such a bad thing._

_You know, this coffee is pretty good. I think I'm going to buy some of this blend to take with me for the rest of my journey. A little of the old caffeine might be just the pepper-upper I need during those long drives. I want to go places I've never been, see stuff I didn't know was out there. Part of that whole "live the journey" mentality I've been trying to cultivate. So next week, who knows? But I'm sure that it'll be an adventure! When is it not!_

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Historian's Note: The following scene takes place the morning following Rhonda's graduation party

Gerald sat on a porch swing in the Lloyd garden, looking a bit dazed from the night's events. He took some comfort as the party's hostess sat down next to him, proffering a cup of coffee.

"Watching the sunrise?" Rhonda asked. "It's been awhile since I've been up early enough to appreciate it. Usually I'm a bit too busy in the bathroom, making myself look presentable."

"Well, I'd certainly say that it's worth it." Gerald smirked, taking the coffee mug and drinking deep. "Thanks."

"Still no news about Arnold, is there?" Rhonda asked.

"None." Gerald shook his head. "I don't get it. Helga should've checked back in with us by now."

"Do you think something could've happened?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Gerald sighed in frustration. "I hate this. It's like there's nothing we can do. We don't even know which hospital Helga took him to! And none of them will give me any information over the phone, I've tried."

"He'll pull through, Gerald. I know he will." Rhonda nodded.

"You would think I'd know that. He's my best friend. But I can't stop thinking about him, like he's in some kind of trouble."

"I know my Arnold. He'll be okay. He always is." Rhonda smiled, trying to brighten the mood a bit.

"I've got to tell you, he just hasn't been the same ever since you broke up with him. I really thought that you to had it."

"So did I. God, how I wanted us to."

"So why aren't you together now?"

"I'm afraid that my parents didn't see things the same way." Rhonda sighed.

"I can't believe that you two let them do this to you." Gerald protested. "Isn't love worth it?"

"Try to understand, Gerald. As much as I love Arnold. As much as I enjoy fantasize about going around the world with him, never being apart. . .sometimes, even bearing his children. . ."

"Say what!" Gerald spit his coffee out of his mouth, choking.

"I'm just not ready for it. I'm not at a point in my life where I'm willing to risk everything. Even for love. I wish I were. I wish the two of us could just run off together. But this is my home, my life. May you'll consider me a coward, but I don't want to give that up. I like who I am, Gerald."

"Yeah, I guess it would be a bit unreasonable for you both to just change your lives like that. Now that I think about it, if you had run off together, I'd probably be going into some kind of tirade about how foolish you two were acting."

"Damned if we do, damned if we don't." Rhonda placed her hands on her knees, draining the rest of her coffee rather quickly. Considering that she had just spent the night playing hostess to her class and worrying over Arnold, she didn't feel very tired at all.

"Hey, Gerald?"

"Yeah?" The black boy asked.

"Thanks for staying with me last night."

Gerald indicated it was no big deal with a wave of his hand. "Don't mention it."

"It's a little hard not to." Rhonda smiled. "You were very gallant. Say, whatever happened to Phoebe?"

"She went home. I wasn't very good company." Gerald sighed.

"She'll forgive you. She loves you, you know."

"I know." He nodded. "She's better than I deserve."

"Everyone feels that way when they're in love. That they don't deserve the person they have. I wouldn't be too surprised if Phoebe feels the same way about you."

"You really think so?"

"I'd definitely bet on it. Come on, Gerald. I'm putting you to bed."

"I'm not tired. I want to wait until I hear some news about Arnold."

"I do too, but if we both don't get some sleep, we won't be able to do anything when we do hear about Arnold."

Gerald exhaled, conceding her point. "Okay. Maybe you're right. I probably should get home."

"I called your folks, told them you're staying in my guest room."

"You did?"

Rhonda nodded. "I think the two of us should stick together for now. We both care about Arnold more than anyone else, we're both connected to him. Please, stay. I don't want to be alone right now."

Gerald looked into her eyes and made his decision.

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Courtney Gripling sat upright in her booth, curiously studying the sports-centered décor, which showcased teams from local high school and colleges. Deirdre sat across from her, her legs crossed and he new high heels dangling precariously from her feet.

"What did you say they call this place again, Deirdre?" Courtney asked, still gazing at her surroundings."

"Applebee's." Deirdre explained. "It's another restaurant in a long line of restaurants that, well, are pretty much the same."

"You mean to say that there are these, ah, Applebee's restaurants all over the place?"

"Not quite all over." Deirdre shook her head. "There are Friday's, Tuesday's, Hops, Ninety-Nines. . ."

"Deirdre, you're losing me here."

"I'm sorry!" The brunette quickly began backpedaling, trying to think of a way she could explain this concept to her boss. "Okay, let me try again. There are lots of restaurants, right?"

"Certainly. And I've always made it a habit of eating in the very best."

"Well, picture some of your favorite places in your head."

"You're going to make me nostalgic. . ." Courtney trailed off, her mind clearly focused on her favorite restaurant already.

"Now. Of all the restaurants you've eaten in, do they all have similar décor?"

"Well, yes, now that I think about it, I suppose they do."

"And what about the menus? Do they all serve the same dishes?"

"Now that you mention it, the menus do have a lot in common."

Deirdre's eyes lit up, and she had to resist the urge to clap her hands. "Well it's the same thing here! In our class, we have lots of restaurants, and they serve the same kinds of foods and have the same kind of decoration!"

"You mean the difference between this Applebee's and, ah, one of those other places you mentioned, is like the difference between Chez Pierre and Rodique's?"

"Exactly!" Deirdre exclaimed, not really knowing either place Courtney was referring to but certain that the blonde had gotten the idea.

"Well why didn't you say so in the first place, Silly?" Courtney giggled. "And I must say, this place does have kind of a rustic charm. It's actually been a long time since I've had a nice dinner out. Winston usually takes care of dinner for me."

"I know that it's hard for you, Courtney." Deirdre sighed. "And I know that even after all this time, you're still not completely adjusted to living in the world that I come from. But I want to help you out!"

At first, Courtney didn't say anything in return, allowing herself to appear distracted by the menu. But at length, she had to face the truth. "You're just like Ginger, sometimes, you know that?"

"I am!" Deirdre asked, not quite seeing the connection.

"Yes. Don't worry, Deirdre. It's endearing. There's always been something very endearing about her. It's why I always wanted her to be my friend. She's got some kind of power to attract people. But I'll bet that you could tell me a lot more about Ginger then she's ever told me."

"I don't know, Courtney. Ginger and I haven't exactly gotten together in awhile. We've kind of gone in different directions in life."

"I'd still love to hear some stories." Courtney nodded.

"Well. . .all right. I remember this one time, we had gone on vacation. . ."

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"You know, Arnold, the way we girls see it is that maybe you aren't being aggressive enough." Rhonda smiled. She walked the distance back to her love, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing. Arnold was forced to take a step backwards, two, three, before finally hitting the couch and falling backwards onto it. Rhonda immediately sat beside him, and Nadine hurried to fill the remaining cushion on his other side.

"How am I supposed to help that?" Arnold asked. "I'm not aggressive by nature, you know that."

"But maybe you need to be." Nadine nodded. "You know how Helga can be, Arnold. She needs you to push her back. It's what she really wants."

"Wouldn't that only make her more angry?"

Rhonda shook her head. "I'd bet you a sizeable chunk of my inheritance it would turn her on to no end."

"She was pretty turned on the last time I saw her." Arnold muttered.

"What!" Rhonda and Nadine asked in unison.

"Nothing." Arnold shook his head.

"Oh no." Rhonda started. "You can't just say something like that and then not tell the story behind it!"

"Well believe me, that's exactly what's going to happen." Arnold shook his head. "I tell you enough already, Rhonda."

"And I'm guessing there's still a lot more to this story that you're leaving out." Rhonda crossed her arms.

"I'm not leaving it out." Arnold explained. "I just haven't gotten to it yet."

Nadine seemed to empathize with the boy, trying to take the focus off of him. "Sometimes it can be hard to talk about ourselves, Rhonda. I know that I don't like to. Even after you can put some things behind you, it's never really over. You still have to confront the memories. You still have to face the hours at night where you don't have easy distractions. You still have guilt and doubt. You still have to get up every morning and know that none of them will ever be the same as they once were. And it will be that way for the rest of your life."

Arnold looked hard at his former girlfriend, knowing now that whatever she had been through, it was certainly a lot worse than she had been letting on when she first came back. Nadine met his gaze, and Arnold could see that she was trying to keep tears out of her eyes. What was it that Nadine had experienced? He wanted to reach out to her, but restrained himself. It would only make Rhonda upset, not to mention invite old feelings that he didn't want to confuse himself with in his current state. Arnold knew that there would probably be something left unresolved between himself and Nadine, but he had come to accept that. He was able to compartmentalize his feelings for the blonde, Accept the fact that things had turned out as they had for a reason and that nothing was going to change that. And perhaps it was better this way. He had enough female trouble already.

Rhonda, for her part, was staring intently at the boy she loved, silently wondering whether she was losing her ability to relate to him. Somehow, Rhonda suspected that if Arnold chose her over Helga, things still wouldn't be the same between them. They would never be like they were before she had so foolishly broken up with him back in April. Would they ever be again? "Why do we do this to each other?" Rhonda asked, not realizing that she had spoken aloud until both Arnold and Nadine looked at each other.

"Do what?" Arnold asked, looking at her intently.

Rhonda shook her head, focusing her thoughts. "Men and women. Why do we always seem to work so hard at hurting each other? Even when we don't mean to?"

"Maybe it's why we're so convoluted as a species." Nadine shuddered. "So many people malign the black widow for eating her mates? But don't we all do the same thing? Except we do it a little bit at a time. We do it with words, with action, with indifference. We dig at each other. We draw attention to one another's flaws. We kill each other slowly. So many marriages failing because people let the love die. I don't know. Maybe we're all just selfish."

"Sex over love?" Rhonda asked.

"Perhaps." Nadine nodded. "We do live in a society that makes sex seem so important. But I've only been in two real relationships in my life, including Sid now. Arnold and I never did it in high school. But I didn't feel like something is missing. Maybe it's just who we are as people, individually. Life and love are pretty cheap today." Nadine sat forward. "Arnold? Call her."

"Helga?"

"Yes. Call her now. Tell her the truth. Tell her what's really in your heart. Do for her what you've done for Rhonda. Tell Helga what it's like to be with Rhonda. Even if she doesn't want to hear it. She has to know everything there is to know about you. I think that the three of you have to go through this together."

"I don't know how to find her." Arnold shook his head. "She called me, but she blocks the Caller I.D."

"I'm trying to locate her." Rhonda added. "I've got someone working on it. We'll find her, Nadine."

"I'm afraid that if you don't do it soon, it might not make a difference." Nadine sighed. And suddenly, Arnold felt the pain of Helga's leaving him all over again.

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Author's Notes

And so, yet another chapter of the story draws to a close. I was a tad fortunate, being trapped with a Nor'Easter this weekend. It gave me a lot more time to write than I would've had otherwise. My new work schedule is not conducive to writing at all, so don't be surprised if the chapters start to get shorter than I've been able to provide in the past. It's not a lack of dedication on my part. Nevertheless, I still expect to be able to deliver something to you most weeks, so try not to fear too much.

It looks like some of my old readers are coming back. I told you all I was coming back! I just needed to spend some time with _Ceremony Of Innocence_ and then give myself a much deserved vacation. Updating a story like this week in and week out isn't the easiest task in the world, you know. But I do the best that I can. I tend to fret every week about whether or not people will even enjoy this. Fortunately, my fears are usually unfounded. Maybe you just know what to expect from by now, I don't know. But just knowing that so many people come to read my story every week is reason enough for me to keep writing it. If there's one thing I hate, it's disappointing people. So I hope that you'll be staying. As you can see, I've got lots of good stuff in the works for this tale!

Let's look at some reviews…

Animefreak03, you're back for more, glad to see it! So you think that I'm evil, hmm? What makes me so evil? And I definitely want to explore a lot of possibilities. This story isn't about Arnold and Helga, or Arnold and Rhonda, or anyone else in particular. It's about people being people. In my experience, that is what makes a story worth reading. It's certainly what attracted me to the show in the first place. I'm glad that you're looking forward to more. I'll do my best not to disappoint!

Laurel, it's okay if you forgot that my story was out on Monday. Coincidentally, I was home sick that day as well! I woke up Monday morning at 5:30 with the heaves something fierce. The pattern of the chapters is pretty constant. I always open with Arnold and Helga for a reason. Firstly, because I know that's what people want to see more than anything, and I'm a big believer in giving the people what they want. Secondly, is because I often close the Arnold/Rhonda scenes with Arnold continuing his story, so it seems fitting to then jump into an Arnold/Helga scene. Even though Arnold's a little pre-occupied right now, I don't think people would like it if I stopped writing about Arnold and Helga, plus I have a lot of work to do with those two, so I'm keeping them going. With Nadine back in the picture, Arnold's life is certainly more complicated, but I suspect that he'll persevere as he always does. I'm glad to hear that you like Nadine's character so much. I have done flashback scenes with Arnold and Nadine as a couple. Check out Chapter 10, "The Way We Were" for one. I did another one in Chapter 15 where Arnold helps dye Nadine's hair. Chapter 10 was a big flashback chapter that got almost no reviews whatsoever. The readers just didn't like that one. I have a habit of reading my fanmail, so I promised never to do something like that again. I try to learn from my mistakes! And for the record, it would appear that you can catch The Weekenders on Toon Disney, Saturday and Sunday mornings at 6AM. Best set your VCR or DVR for that one. You've slipped on some insider information? Alright, who squealed! I let so few people know where I'm going with this in the first place!

Unfortunately, there isn't a whole lot I can do about it, but if I've got a squealer in my ranks, I'm going to do my damndest to ferret them out! I don't want things ruined for everyone out there, it's always much more fun to wait and see! Anyway, you guys know the drill. I'll be back in 7 days like I always am. I think. Try to miss me while I'm gone. In the meantime, you know how to reach me. But in case you forgot, you can send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

02/13/06

3:25AM, EST

E-mail: Asukaphile26


	29. Movin' Out

Movin' Out

Try as she might, Helga couldn't keep a smile off her face as Phil drove the Newlyweds to the place she had procured. Her master plan was coming together. And faster than she had expected. Originally, Helga had figured that her biggest obstacle would be in devising a plausible reason for her and Arnold to leave the Sunset Arms. Who would've thought that the old man would surprise her with the greatest wedding present of all—an eviction notice! "Make a right up ahead. . .Grandpa." Helga said hesitantly. It still felt weird to think of him as family. He was a bit eccentric, being ninety years old. Yet he was still about as sharp as Helga could remember him from her childhood. She could see why Arnold was so attached to his grandfather. The man was more than a father figure to him. He had selflessly stepped in and sacrificed the lion's share of his autumn years to raising a kid all over again. And Arnold was old enough himself to appreciate that. Helga hadn't seen much of her grandmother-in-law, however. The old lady still did plenty of cooking. She usually seemed a bit out of her mind to Helga, but Gertrude was mostly harmless. And despite her crazy shenanigans, Helga knew that she would rather Gertie behave that way than be one of those boring grandmas who sat in a rocker, knitting and mumbling to themselves. In the brief time that Helga had come to call the boarding house her home, the elderly woman had been no less a part of the place than anyone else. But now it was time for the coup de gras. This would become her shining moment. With no one around to distract or disrupt her, she would now have limitless opportunities to win Arnold over. She subconsciously rubbed her hands together in anticipation. She would show him what a determined wife could do. And then, he would be hers. It was very difficult to keep herself from chuckling malevolently, but she somehow managed to do so. The grin on her face, however, gave her away.

"You look mighty pleased there, little lady." Phil grinned, lightly elbowing Helga's left arm. "Looking forward to spending some quality time alone in your big, new place?"

"Something like that." Helga grinned, looking quite pleased with the possibilities.

"Grandpa, don't encourage her!" Arnold groaned.

"What?" Phil shrugged, feigning innocence. "Can I help it if I want to seem my grandkids before I got to that great good place filled with mackerel sandwiches and Hettie Lamar and raspberries that don't make me put in overtime at the office?"

At the sound of his grandfather's comments, Arnold began sputtering from the back set as though his world were crashing down around him. In spite of the countless years of Arnold worship she had put in, even Helga herself was taken aback. She had scarcely allowed herself to fantasize about being married to him, it was her most special and sacred fantasy, reserved for those long nights when the world had become unbearable, when she feared what she might do. In those desperate moments, she would shamelessly clutch a pillow to her breast and pretend that she was Mrs. Arnold Short, and her loving, faithful husband would protect her from all wrong. And eventually, she had found a way to turn the fantasy into sweet reality. But the prospect of bearing his children was just too romantic, too overwhelming, too perfect! The sex itself would be bliss, of that she had no doubt. But her mind was open to magic far beyond mere carnal pleasures. Just the idea that she could take a part of everything he is into herself, combine it with part of her, and create an entirely unique and new person—the very notion gave her goosebumps. She wanted it more than anything. Instantly, her mind brought something to her attention that made her gasp involuntarily. It was close! She was nearly ripe for conception! It wouldn't be more than a day or two until she reached her fertile peak. It was a bit after that when the fun part usually began. There were few times that Helga despised being a woman more. Even as a young girl, she had envied the boys. Though she may have been too naïve in those days to know about the joys of menstruation, but she just preferred the way in which the boys interacted with one another. They could be stupid sometimes, but she respected them. Girls, on the other hand, were just too weak. If it weren't for Phoebe, she wouldn't have had anything to do with them at all. Silently, Helga offered a prayer to a God she often doubted that she might conceive Arnold's child and be given a chance at being complete.

I'd be happy to oblige you, Gramps." Helga grinned, turning to watch Arnold as he sank further into the back seat. "After we get settled, what say you leave your grandson and I alone for the afternoon and I'll try to produce some results."

"That's the spirit!" Grandpa hooted. "Oh, she's perfect for you, Short Man!"

"Do we have to talk about this now!" Arnold cringed.

"When else are we supposed to talk about it?" Phil asked.

"I don't know, couldn't we come back over for dinner or something?"

Helga laughed loudly, slapping her knee with the palm of her hand. "Oh yeah, Football Head. I'm sure that would make for great dinner conversation. I can just picture it now. 'So, Arnold and I spent the whole afternoon trying to get pregnant. How was your day, Mr. Hyunh?' I'm sure that everyone will _love _having that image running around in their heads while they're trying to eat dinner."

"Hey, it'd certainly be better than listening to Kokoshka whine!" Phil protested.

"We're here." Helga interrupted the proceedings. "Pull over." They say in silence as Phil parallel parked his classic Packard. Once Phil shut the engine off, they all piled out of the car and Helga led the trio across the street towards an oversized building. It was light pink in color and slightly set back from the street. Three separate staircases led from the sidewalk to different doors. Helga led them up the leftmost one, producing a key and turning it in the lock.

"I'm still not sure about this." Arnold hesitated, bringing up the rear.

"Trust me, honey, you're going to love it." Helga grinned as she threw the door wide open, revealing the interior. She stepped inside, and Phil promptly followed. Arnold waited, taking a deep breath before finally entering. As he looked around at the spacious lodging, his doubts began to take a back seat. The place was furnished! Helga wasn't fooling around when she had set this up. Arnold had stayed in hotels that weren't as nice as this.

"What did I tell ya?" Helga smirked as she watched her husband's eyes dart back and forth across the living room, taking in its charming décor, wood-paneled walls, and luxurious furniture. If there was one thing Helga had learned at a young age, it was that money could buy almost anything. And this had cost her the lion's share of her life's savings. But if she couldn't spend it on Arnold, then what was the use in having it?

Arnold didn't say anything, he just walked off down the hallway, which opened into a tiny den and a cozy little half-bath, which had a toilet, sink, and a washer/dryer unit. Phil was in the kitchen, admiring the oversized refrigerator. An island range was present, with a large counter following the perimeter of the room. A double sink was installed in the counter, along with a dishwasher and a row of large cupboards. New cabinets could also be found overhead, perfect for storing dishes or cooking materials. Helga was particularly proud of the kitchen. It fell somewhere between classic and space age, and she intended to spend some time in there. While cooking was by no means a hobby, she had done a lot of it throughout her high school years, purely for survival. And there were few things that helped her work out her aggravation more than pounding some dough around and then molding it into something useful.

Phil whistled as he disengaged from the fridge. "Wow, Pookie and I never had a place this nice! This must've set you back a fortune."

"I'd rather not say." Helga blushed a little. "But I wanted it to be a surprise for Arnold. A way to show him how much he means to me."

"Heck, I'd marry ya if I could've live in a place like this!" He chuckled. "Arnold's gonna love it!"

"You should see what's upstairs." Helga smiled, gesturing towards a large, steep staircase in the corner of the living room. She led her elder up the staircase, which opened into a hall with two doors on either end. Straight ahead opened onto a full bathroom. The other doors led to bedrooms. A small linen closet was near the room on the left. Helga soon found that Arnold had wasted no time. He was already lying on a bed in the leftmost room, staring up at the ceiling with a strange expression on his face. "Two bathrooms, hun." Helga nodded. "I figure when you piss me off, I can send you to a different bedroom. I'm kind of hard to please, and I thought it would be a little mean to make you sleep on the couch all the time. It'll also make a nice guest room if we ever decide to have a sleepover with Phoebe and Gerald. And, of course, if we get to work on that baby, well. . ."

"Then you've got yourselves a ready-made nursery!" Phil exclaimed. This is perfect, Short Man! What do you say?"

Arnold looked up at his grandfather, who seemed so happy for him. His gaze shifted to Helga, who was so eager to please, so full of life and love. Would it really be so bad? He looked into her eyes and made his decision.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_I think I've found my new favorite place. This a proverbial, commercial Mecca. I haven't seen this many stores in one place since my last trip to New York City. But The Big Apple isn't a place that I'm about to take my car into. I doubt that I'd last thirty seconds trying to drive around the streets of Manhattan. But hey, it's good to know your limits. Otherwise, you can find yourself in for a world of trouble. There's nothing worse than being in way over your head and knowing it. And I've been in that situation plenty of times already._

_I certainly had a nice drive back down to this neck of the woods. I called into Triple-A for a Triptick and took the back roads. You really learn more about a town by traversing its secondary streets. Literally driving through the middle of a farm is quite an experience. Chickens and cows and horses and all manner of livestock looking at you like you don't belong. The road turns into dirt and runs between a series of barns and you do begin to feel like you're trespassing until the road mercifully becomes pavement again. Then you move out into the secluded sections with the absurdly big houses sitting in the middle of a hundred acres of land, and a driveway as long as a football field. Out in the country, you see people from all walks of life. Rich, poor, simple, sophisticated. They're all out there. It's not really like living in a suburb. My hometown, Sheltered Shrubs, is more of a happy medium. Everything out in the country is far away. You don't just jump in your car and drive to the local Wal-Mart. In many cases, that can be like twenty or thirty miles away. A major restaurant might be closed by 8PM. On the way out, I stopped in this sleepy little lakeside town called Bantam. It was, of course, known best for its lake and the surrounding campground area. And that's about it. And this certainly isn't a time of year for camping out. But there was a cozy little diner, a bed and breakfast, and a movie theater. So I figured, what the heck? The food at the diner was actually pretty good. Very much like a home cooked meal. But the movie theater, I had to stop at that. It was literally inside of a barn. I half-expected to go inside and make my seat on some bales of hay among the livestock. I was a little pointed to find that it had regular seats. There were only about thirty of them, and the movie was so old I'm pretty sure you can see it on DVD. But it was still a quaint experience. I did get the feeling that people were staring at me. I guess when you live in a rural area, a suburban girl like me would seem a bit like a city slicker. I always thought I was old-fashioned. I cook, I clean, I do dishes. I don't mind the role of a homemaker, provided I have the chance to make something of myself. Just because I like being in the kitchen doesn't mean that I feel it's my place. If I'm in there it's because I choose to be. I guess I'm something of a cross between an old-fashioned girl and a modern woman. But between you and I, I don't think that I'm cutthroat enough for Corporate America. I like myself the way that I am. Friendly, but assertive. _

_It was in New York State that I discovered a beautiful state park called Bash Bish Falls. I was impressed during the winter, I can only imagine how beautiful they would look when in season. There were even facilities to climb either side of the falls. But I didn't much feel like hiking in the cold weather. I sat near the falls, on this big, flat rock, watching a steady torrent of water cascading out of the ice into the pool my rock was stationed in. It's a shame the season was wrong, I had this overwhelming desire to kick my shoes off, roll my pants up, and splash my legs around in the water. It brought back a lot of memories from Camp Caprice, where I spent a lot of summers when I was young. Some years there were better than others. And I certainly did my fair share of rule breaking. I know, it seems a little out of character, doesn't it? But breaking the rules every now and then is fun—as long as you don't get caught. Uh, I'm probably not setting the best example to any of my younger readers at the moment, but sometimes I just have to be brutally honest. By the time I had reached seventh grade, I had gotten really good at avoiding the patrols and arranging after-hours meetings with my friends. A girls get together was always twice as fun when you had the danger of being busted. Of course, nothing compares to the incident that I had there one year. You know, maybe this is as good a time as any to tell you all the good news. I checked into a hotel the night after visiting the park. I placed a call to Courtney and talked to her for over two hours. She sounded very grateful for the call. She's probably worried about me, she doesn't like it when I stray too far from home. She certainly worries about me more than my own mother! But it's nice to be fawned over. Anyway, I definitely convinced Courtney that this trip was more than worth the effort. I pitched an idea to her about Camp Caprice and she went for it! We're going to sign the deal as soon as I get back. Unfortunately, I can't really say anymore until we have a contract, but hopefully you'll be able to figure it out. I'm really excited about this new prospect. This is an opportunity I've never had before, and a newfound inspiration. I think this just might be what I've been looking for, what I set out to find. But don't worry, this doesn't mean that I'm cutting my little trip short. I've needed to get away from it all for a long time._

_Which brings me back to how I started out this column._ _The whole Mecca of shopping thing. I definitely like this better than any mall I've been to. I guess it might seem a little ordinary to some people, but I like it here. I'm in Fishkill, and it's a heck of a town. Plenty of places to shop, eat, kick back and have fun. It's an exciting feeling, being able to go into a shopping district and binge. This is what credit cards were created for. Making a girl happy! But I'm doing my best to get something for everyone. I broke down and bought Carl one of those mini-fridges for his dorm room. Mom's getting a brand new nightgown to curl up in her recliner with. Dr. Dave is getting one heck of a gift card to Barnes and Noble. Robert's getting a new formal jacket. I haven't seen Macie in a long time, but when I do get ahold of her, I'm going to surprise her with one of the rarest Little Seal Girl collectibles on the map. For Dodie, I've bought some materials. I want to make something handmade, the kind of stuff we used to give each other when we were much better BFFs then we are now. I'd like to show her that I haven't forgotten. And for Darren, well, there are some things a girl doesn't talk about! Especially since I like to keep the column PG rated. The last thing Courtney needs is phone calls from a bunch of papers threatening to drop my column because I said something their readers felt was inappropriate. Darren often asks me why I subject myself to that kind of censorship. But I don't feel as though I'm being silenced. I'm just not the most risqué person in the book. But who knows? I've given some though to taking on something like a novel or collection of short stories, so maybe then I'll be willing to get a little more intimate. Until then, more of the same, but I picked up a few more newspapers running this column over the last three months, so I must be doing something right. _

_Okay, that's it. I'm off to enjoy the heated pool and maybe a Pina Coloda. I hear that there's a whirlpool down there too, so don't wait up for me! I think I'm going to stay in until my skin gets all wrinkled and pruned! Until next week, this is Ginger, having the time of my life. _

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"I can't call her, Nadine. I don't have her number." Arnold explained.

"You mean you don't know where she's staying?" Nadine looked puzzled.

"I've got nothing on her. The next move is hers."

"You'd better give me the full story." Nadine paced back and forth, looking exasperated.

"Okay, but you'd better sit down. This could take awhile."

Arnold spent the next half hour filling Nadine in, giving her the Cliffs Notes version of his marriage with Helga, catching the girl up with the point he was at with Rhonda.

"Sounds serious." Nadine observed, standing by a large window.

"Worse." Rhonda sighed. "As you can see, Arnold's knack for girl troubles hasn't dissipated over the years."

"His problem is that he cares too much, he's always been like that." Nadine shook her head. "I wonder if he'll ever be able to choose between you two."

"You know, I'm sitting right here!" Arnold crowed.

"Someone has to be honest." Nadine shrugged. "Arnold, what is it that you really want?"

"I don't even know anymore." Arnold held his head in his hands. "I wish none of this had ever happened."

"Gee, thanks Arnold." Rhonda crossed her arms. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special!"

"Didn't you say it yourself!" Arnold howled. "Whatever I do, it's going to hurt somebody! And I know, I know how it must hurt so badly to wait and not know what's in the future. But I'm not having fun, Rhonda. I am in hell! I'm in hell, and no matter how hard I try, I can't find a way to cleft myself in twain! I can't look at you, I can't look at Helga—and tell you that I don't love you. Because it's a lie! I can't dash either of your expectations. I can't tell either of you that your love isn't good enough! I can't just sit here and do nothing. I feel like everything is just a damned mess and no matter what I do or say it'll only become worse!"

Silence followed Arnold's outburst, quiet and merciful, not a one of them able to come up with a reasonable response. But Nadine finally found the courage to speak. "Helga left you." She shook her head.

"Yes. She did."

"Do you have any idea why?"

"She said something about needing to find herself." Arnold sighed. "But it seemed to me that she was just running away."

"And what about Rhonda?"

"What about me?" The rich girl huffed, not liking the direction this conversation was taking.

"Well, why did you leave Arnold?" Nadine asked.

"Because I was stupid. But if you want the gory details, it was out of the insistence of my parents."

"But you changed your mind?" Nadine raised an eyebrow.

Rhonda scoffed. "Didn't take me very long, did it? I guess maybe all it took was knowing that he was in the arms of another woman—one that was making him happy. But it's more than that. I didn't come back to Arnold because I was jealous. If that were the case, I would've tried to break up his marriage somehow. But I'm not a home wrecker. Even if it would've left me crying my eyes out for month, I would've accepted Arnold's moving on. But I didn't have to. Helga left him. She gave me an opening. And I don't care what anyone thinks of me for it. I had every right to be here."

"Even if you've ended up confusing him even more?"

Arnold sighed. "It doesn't matter. Even if Rhonda hadn't entered the picture, a part of me is always going to love her, regardless of what happens. Sometimes I wonder if that was Helga's real reason for leaving. If she sensed somehow that I wasn't all there."

"I suppose you would have to ask her." Nadine shrugged. "Great, that's not getting us anywhere. And I thought I really had something for a minute."

"Helga is the piece that's missing from the equation. It's just like her, though. In the jigsaw puzzle of life, she's that one stubborn piece that you can't figure out until the whole puzzle is put together. The last one."

"Yeah, that definitely sounds like Helga." Rhonda admitted. "So where does that leave us?"

"Helga called me earlier." Arnold volunteered.

"She _what?_" Rhonda choked.

"She wouldn't say anything. Not even hello. But I know it was her. It had to have been her. I tried to talk to her. I pleaded with her. But she wouldn't say anything."

Nadine lit up. "She'll call back, Arnold. I guarantee it."

"What makes you so sure?" Rhonda asked.

"Because she's no fool. She may be trying to figure some stuff out for herself now, like she said. But if Helga sits back and lets you get back together with Arnold without a fight…heck, I'll bet my ant farm she shows up, one way or another. She's always been drawn to Arnold. She won't stay away for long."

"You make it sound as though he's bait!" Rhonda frowned.

"Well, in a manner of speaking, he is. The bait that Helga can't refuse. She'll put her two cents in, I guarantee it. Actually, she'll probably put a whole silver dollar in."

"She will." Arnold nodded. "So, what do you think? We should just wait for her?"

"Might as well. You sound like you're just driving yourself crazy. Anyway, then you can at least finish this story."

"At this point, I guess it couldn't hurt." Arnold nodded. "All right then. This is where I really began to wade knee-deep into the kimshee. Helga and I had just moved out on our own, and. . ."

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Author's Notes

I'm sorry that I couldn't do more this week, but I kept finding things that I had to do which began to cut into my writing time to the point where I began to worry I wouldn't make it again. But somehow, I put it all together! Oh yeah, I'm good! There aren't enough hours in the day, I tell you!

Anyway, as some of you may have noticed, I posted a new fic entitled "Expectations." That title is getting scrapped with the next update in a day or two, so for those following that story, look for it to be called "Gravity" from now on. I think it's a lot better. Now I know what some of you are thinking…doesn't IG keep you busy enough? Aren't you already co-authoring a fanfic for The Weekenders and another for Teen Titans? Are you trying to kill yourself? Maybe, I really don't know. I still don't know what has possessed me to write a Rugrats/All Grown Up fanfic, but something has. Maybe it's just my valentine to the fans. Or an attempt to take over all forms of cartoon fanfiction. Bwahahahahahaha! Ha, ha, ha….ahem, excuse me. Actually, it's just a story that popped into my head for reasons I can't explain but which I can't stop thinking about lately, so I guess it has to be told. For those who don't want to follow it, I can assure you that "Gravity" is a story on a much smaller scale, I don't expect it to run more than ten or fifteen chapters, and it doesn't have countless, complex plot lines. So I'm not making a tremendous commitment. Which is good, because I'd probably have killed myself by now if I had to write another fic as complicated as IG! To those who have already reviewed it, thanks so much. Anyone who hasn't checked it out, feel free too. I'm always at my most anxious for feedback when I try something new and completely untested.

I've been bad about review responses lately, and I'm sorry. I appreciate every single review I get and I promise to make an effort to do better. But my new hours at work have definitely been getting the best of me, and I'm sorry for that. I will work harder, I promise.

Alright, let me hit the ones I have to hit here. Animefreak03, I'm glad that you feel my work doesn't disappoint you at all. That's one thing I hate, for someone to feel disappointed. Nothing makes me feel like more of a failure with my writing. I'm fortunate in that it's pretty rare people dislike my work. Although I think the people that don't like my stories just don't bother saying so and ignore me. Then again, I do the same thing usually, so I can't complain about it!

I hope you don't know how the story will end, that could really damage your enjoyment of it. I mean, the journey there is going to be a blast, but I want to keep my ending as pure as possible so that when we get there, no one will feel as though they saw it coming. I'm glad that you enjoy that Rhonda/Arnold/Nadine action. And of course, I think everyone wants to know what Arnold was talking. Perhaps in time, you'll learn. It sounds like I ended up making you rather happy, which always makes me feel good. A happy reader is a returning reader, after all!

One last thing, I couldn't get this chapter finished in time for a pre-read, so you're just going to have to make do. I'm sure there's some mistakes in it, and I'm sorry if it's a little messier than the usual quality I deliver. I'll try to do better in the future.

Again, I'm sorry about having to make everyone wait an extra week. I'll try to make it up to you, somehow. Not that I have any idea how, just that I'll try. But in the meantime, you know what to do. Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

02/27/06

3:34AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	30. Love Is Eternity

Love Is Eternity

Helga paced back and forth across the living room, as Arnold sat on the couch, his head flush against a luxuriously soft pillow. He sat with his head tilted backward, eyes shut. Helga kept darting glances over at him with each pass that she made, but it seemed to be to no avail, Arnold never moved a muscle. Finally, Helga cracked, stopping squarely in front of him. "Well are you just going to sit there all day long!" Helga yelled, crossing her arms over her breasts.

Arnold hardly moved a muscle, opening only one eye to acknowledge his wife. "Now that you mention it, that does seem like a pleasant way to pass the day. I've never done that before, you know."

"Well I'm sure as hell not about to start letting you!" Helga protested. "We've got work to do!"

"Helga, I'm not going to try and make a baby with you." He said flatly.

"Not _that _kind of work. I swear, it's true. Men have sex on the brain." Helga scowled.

"Hey, you were the one who kept talking about it for practically the whole car ride over here!" Arnold shot back at her.

"You heard your Grandpa. He wants grandkids, Arnold. Is it so wrong to indulge the old boy a little?"

"It is when we don't have any intention of following through!"

"So?" Helga shrugged. "He doesn't have to know that. We can just tell him that we tried. We just weren't fertile enough."

"I've already told more lies than I wanted to, Helga."

"Well," Helga smirked, drawing herself closer, "it doesn't have to be a lie if you don't want it to be."

"Helga. . ."

"It's a big place. And we're alone. We can make all the noise we want. What do you say, hmm?"

Arnold took a moment to study her expression, wondering if she was teasing him or if she was serious. He came to the conclusion that this wasn't a trick. Despite all of the history between them, she did desire him. Unfortunately for Helga, her desires just weren't enough to Arnold for him to give more than a fleeting thought to coupling with her. "I don't think so."

"You're no fun at all!" Helga complained.

"I always thought that I had a pretty good handle on fun." Arnold said. "I've always considered myself to be a fun guy."

"A fungi? No argument there!" Helga snickered, Arnold either missing her joke or just choosing to ignore it, which seemed to aggravate Helga even further. "I can't believe that you're turning down an offer for sex! You're a man, aren't you?"

"Last I checked." Arnold rolled his eyes, unfazed by Helga's taunts.

"Then reach down and find a pair! Geez, I don't ask for much." Helga complained.

This comment caused Arnold to laugh. "C'mon, Helga, you want the world and you know it."

"That isn't true. I just want your half of it." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"You snatched away a quarter of my world already: you steal my plans of going to college, you turn my family against me, you turn my friends against me, you get my grandpa to evict me from the only home I've known in my life, SEVERING WHATEVER CONNECTION I HAD WITH MY PARENTS...and now you want a sperm donation? Not from this donor, girl."

Helga was a little shocked at Arnold's abruptly dark turn, but did her best to react calmly. "You know, Arnold. You make it sound as though I've done something wrong." Helga pouted.

"He suddenly stood, "MY PARENTS, HELGA! MY PARENTS! You took them away from me! Well maybe you had poor excuses for parents yourself, but there are some of us who would sell their souls _just to know if they're alive or dead_!

"All right, all right, relax! No one's mocking your parents here, bucko. Okay? Wherever they may be, they had to have been some damn fine people if you are their son."

"There were some things that I was going to start getting away from. . .because of college. . . I would start letting go. . .gradually. . .at MY pace. . .then you come along and blow up the bridge while I'm still standing on it. That doesn't exactly say turn me on, you know."

"Okay, maybe I did give you a push. And maybe you weren't ready for it. But I've been patient for most of my life! I just couldn't take it anymore!"

"So you just did whatever you wanted, not caring how many laws you broke, not caring who you lied to, who you hurt, or whose life you threw monkey wrenches at?"

"And why not! No one's ever given me anything in life. Everything I want, I have to take. You more than anything. Don't come crawling to me looking for sympathy. If you want me to feel sad about your parents that's one thing. But I will never apologize for my feelings! They're who I am!"

"Well, sorry honey, but spermatozoa are THE ONE THING you're NOT going to take from me. Not after all you've done to me. I have no obligation to give you ANYTHING, or even to TOUCH you. You already took that which was most precious to me, so don't come begging to me for a son."

"That's what you really think this is all about, isn't it? Arnold, I'm not saying that we have to make a baby together. As fun as that might be, I think it's a little early in my life to be wanting that at the moment. I just. . .thought it was something nice I could do for you. I'm sorry that I repulse you so much. You know, I never asked to be born a woman, Arnold. I just was. And I never asked to love you, I just do. It's funny. I've spent my whole life yelling at you, and when I finally stop, I guess I'm too late. Now you're the one yelling at me." Helga shook her head. "Just do whatever you want. I'm going to the gym." Helga slammed the door behind her even as she left.

He huffed. Trying to make him feel guilty? He never did anything wrong. And he was not about to give in to any of her demands. He laid back on the couch and fell asleep.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_You know, this time of year can make you feel more energetic and alive if you let it in. There's just something special about feeling temperatures in the 50's and even 60's during the winter time. At least, it's special if you're in New England. I expect some of my readers down the south may not understand that one. But that's okay, so long as you get the idea. And so I decided to throw caution to the wind and head north. Really far north. Farther north than most reasonable people go at this time of the year. In fact, I went so far north that I crossed the Canadian border. But I didn't go much farther than that. _

_I decided that I wanted to see Niagara Falls. Not so much a decision, really. I've always wanted to see the Falls. I started out on the American side, but I was told the view is a lot better if you cross into Canada. So I did. And you know what? They were right. It's more than just beautiful, it's downright scary. All this water, rushing into one place. You can just stare at water running off this cliff, onto jagged rocks below. Then you read up on the crazy stunts people used to pull over there, and it sends a chill up your spine. But that's nothing until you get a look at the horseshoe. One look, and you realize why it's labeled as one of the wonders of the world. I had to keep looking, to reassure myself that it was real and not a trick. And I stood right next to them. From above, of course. There's a walkway that goes right along the little canyon that the falls empty into, and if you walk all the way over, you can get right next to an edge of the horseshoe. The water comes so fast and furious. It gives you a great perspective, looking at something that you realize mankind cannot control. We like to think we're in charge of the world, but when it comes right down to it, we really aren't. We're not so special after all. We can't do everything. No matter how hard we try to exert our control over the world, we will always be defied by good old Mother Nature. _

_There's a dichotomy in place up here. This is without a doubt the biggest tourist trap I've ever found myself in. There's no shortage of ways to spend money, of that I can assure you. But everything here also seems a bit more free. It's not all about shopping, so much as it is about enjoying yourself. You can ride to the top of the Sky Lawn Tower, thrill to the view and then eat in the rotating restaurant. You can visit shops and arcades, stay a week and not run out of restaurants, visit the museums and the IMAX theater, take no less than five different tours of the falls. You can ride out close to them on a boat by taking the Maid of the Mist voyage. You can explore the old hydroelectric plant and even journey behind the falls. You can take sightseeing flights and get a birds eye view. You can buy all manner of souvenirs and learn more than you ever possibly wanted to know about the history of this place. Essentially, you can overwhelm yourself, and that's exactly what I've been doing. Sometimes I just stand at my hotel room window, overlooking the falls. I stand there in my bathrobe, drinking tea and wondering to myself how much of a difference my life makes in this world. And I'm not saying that as though I feel like I'm worthless, or I want to die or anything. Please don't get me wrong, everyone, life is definitely for living. But when I look at something so amazing, and wondrous, it just makes me feel small. What do my problems and worries amount to in this world, you know? When all is said and done, it can be pretty easy to start exaggerating my own importance. But maybe it's good to realize that. I've never been one of those ego people, I don't have to have the best of everything. I guess I'm just not that selfish, or at least, not self-absorbed enough. I found that has always been my problem when dealing with the popular crowd. I care too much about so called normal people. And not enough about more trivial or shallow matters. I've never been very good at that. When I see something that feels like nonsense to me, I point it out. And it's cost me a lot in the past. I've had trouble in school, with teachers and other kids alike. The kind of trouble that has cost me on more than one occasion. But I've got to be me. I've got to stand up for what I believe in. _

_But all in all, I think I've turned out pretty well. I have a boss I can trust, a family I'm proud to be a part of, a cute fiancé who's always there for me, and friends. . .well, I've drifted apart from some of my friends. I admit, that's an area I need to work on. Hey, I never claimed to be perfect. I don't know if I could handle that kind of responsibility! I haven't been in touch with my childhood friends for so long, I'm not even sure how to reconnect. Part of me says I should tell them to call me. Right here, in this article. But then I would be presumptive and assume that they're actually reading this. I'm not so naïve as to think that I'm _that _popular. And I don't really know if we'll ever completely get along. I had one of my best friends over for Thanksgiving, and. . .it went okay. We had some bad things pass between us that I don't think we really want to deal with. But then again, we can't just pretend that it isn't there, either. It isn't working, I can vouch for that. _

_Why does love always change everything? We always say to ourselves that it won't. And we're completely full of it. Love changes everything, pure and simple. We can try to trick ourselves into saying that we can still be with our friends, that our hobbies and jobs and everything will still be just as important. And it's all a lie. Once you're in love, it's like the rest of the world fades completely into the background. There's only room for you and that special person you care for. It's sad, but true. It's okay if you happen to be that person. But if you're one of the countless people in someone's life who have fallen off the radar, well, it can make you feel pretty low. I've been on both sides of the equation. And I can speak from experience that there's no easy way around that kind of bind. No matter which way you turn, someone is going to get hurt, plain and simple. You create feelings that people can't easily forget. But we pretend to. What other choice is there, unless you give up on the whole thing. But girls aren't known for doing that, and I've never considered myself a quitter. I'm the kind of person who pushes onward even if I know that I'm getting myself into a bad situation. I have this habit of following my heart instead of my head. And that often leads me to lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, blinking tears out of my eyes and wondering where I went wrong. When I already know my mistake, that I was aware I was making a mistake right when I made it in the first place. But that's me, those are the kinds of things that I do. I made my peace with that a long time ago. I can't afford to spend my life second guessing myself, wondering where on earth I went wrong. I want more than that. I like to think that I am more than that. _

_Suddenly, I'm feeling a little cold. I think I'm going to make myself a cup of tea and ponder what to do next. I should probably think about going home, Courtney is probably pulling her roots out by now! I know how much she hates it when I'm not around. I don't know if she considers me to be some kind of good luck charm or not. Maybe it's just that I'm someone she can talk to. We've always been like that with each other. Able to goof around, share secrets, and be there for one another. We've both put each other wise to a few unsavory things happening around us in the past. I suppose our friendship is an unlikely one, but after that mess that happened with her father all those years ago, well, someone had to stick by her. Someone had to help the world see that she still had something to offer. Someone had to show her that there was a way out. And for that reason, well, maybe I'm a little emotionally attached to Courtney. And maybe someday, I'll even understand why! So if you checked out this one, Courtney, I'm coming home! You too, Darren! Fair warning to clean yourself up good for when I get there! I'll see you all there._

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Lor MacQuarrie kneeled in front of the bathtub with a sponge in her hands, unsuccessfully telling herself that she didn't need another drink. In truth, she needed one very badly, and that was the problem. Her life was getting to her. She couldn't stand to be in a clear state of mind when she wasn't at work. But she had to be strong. Her dependence on alcohol was becoming noticeable, and even though it sucked, she knew she had to get a handle on it know lest she fall into the dark abyss of alcoholism. She wouldn't, couldn't let that happen to herself. "I never used to be so needy." Lor grumbled as she scrubbed away at the soap scum, an annoying job if ever there was one. But it was her turn to clean the bathroom. Both girls had grudgingly agreed that if they cleaned it twice a week, once each, then it would take less time than one of them spending an hour or more in here every other week. There were lots of gross things that Lor could shrug off, growing up around so many brothers. But she needed a clean bathroom. There was no way she could stand being in here if she had to worry about what was on the toilet sheet or what she might pick up from her own shower.

The apartment was quiet. Almost too quiet. She hadn't seen Helga for awhile. It wasn't completely out of the ordinary, the girl was a lone wolf, for certain. Still, Lor would've welcomed the company. It would help take her mind off how badly she wanted a drink, not to mention offer up a temporary cure to her own loneliness. She threw the faucet open for hot water to wash away the mess she had just taken care of, a mixture of dirt, grime, and Ajax swirling around the drain before being swallowed up completely. Lor wrung the sponge out twice before rising to her feet, walking out to the kitchen and tossing the dirtied sponge into the sink, where she would have it soak in soap and water for a bit. She opened the fridge and took out a can of soda, hoping that if she drank _something_, the need she felt for something stronger would dissipate, even a little. She was somewhat relieved to hear someone coming in the door. "What's happening?" Lor asked, turning in the direction of the door.

"Same as before." Helga gave a non-committal answer, lugging an unwieldy case of soda behind her. "Here, I got your stupid soda."

"Yeah, um, I kinda found one last can in here." Lor shrugged.

"You _what!_" Helga growled. "After I went through all this trouble? Why you little-"

"It's okay, you get one free. Next time you take the last soda, I'll buy, okay?"

"It was still a rotten trick, Lor." Helga stuck her tongue out.

"It wasn't a trick. It was just a mistake. There's a difference, you know."

"Tell me the story again." Helga rolled her eyes. "It gets all blurry on this end."

"Hey, c'mon." Lor grinned at her. "I think I might have something that'll cheer you up."

"If it's a drink, I don't want it." Helga shook her head.

"Nothing like that." Lor explained. "Just something that I thought might trigger some better memories in you." Lor led Helga to a bookshelf in the living room, cluttered with all matter of knick knacks, and picked up one of the few actual books that rested there. She brought it out to her roommate with a huge smile on her face. "These are some of the better memories my friends and I have from when we were kids."

"You had a childhood?" Helga cocked an eyebrow.

"Ha ha, very funny." Lor chided, opening the book. "Actually, it was pretty good. But that's because I had the best friends a girl could ask for."

"I've never been all that good at making friends." Helga revealed. "I had a best friend, yeah. But she was like. . .the only person I could really talk to about anything. My life was. . .is, totally complex."

"Sometimes you just need to find the right people." Lor explained. "Tino and Carver and Tish? They weren't just my best friends, they were like, my family. I could always talk to them about stuff, even when I couldn't talk to anyone else. They always made me feel better, and they were there to help me whenever I needed a leg up."

"Sounds like you guys were pretty tight."

"We were." Lor nodded.

"And now?" asked Helga.

"Not so tight." Lor admitted. "Actually, I haven't seen any of them for a real long time. I left home not that long after high school graduation. I wanted to see the world, figure out who I was. So I went. And I haven't been home since. Even if I did go back to Bahia Bay, I doubt that any of them are still there, anyway."

"But you'll never know unless you go back, right?"

"I guess not." Lor sighed. "But I don't know if I can go back. I'm not really ready to face any of them again."

"Did you do something wrong?" Helga questioned.

"Not really. But, I know I wasn't there for some of them. Things kind of went bad, I know. I wasn't there for Tino when he and Tish broke up. I really let him down, and I know it. But. . .I just couldn't stay there anymore. Not for him, not for anyone. It's like my whole body was pushing me out of there. I just hurt all over."

"I know what you mean." Helga said at length, a far off look in her eyes.

"Really?"

"Yeah. That's how I ended up here. I thought I was happy. I had his love. I had our life. I had the one thing I've wanted more than anything for practically my entire life. And then, like a bolt from the blue, it hits me. It isn't enough." Helga sniffed, feeling the emotion start to overcome her. "It wasn't enough. Goddamn it all, why couldn't it be enough!" She howled, punching the wall out of anger and bruising her knuckles. "Ow!" She waved her injured hand.

"Hey, hey. It's okay." Lor tired to console her.

"No it isn't!" Helga said weakly. "It's never going to be all right again. I did something terrible to the only man I've ever loved."

"Then why don't you make it up to him?" Lor asked.

"It's not that simple." Helga protested. "It's not something I can just apologize for and move on. I really messed things up, I really hurt him. Right now, I dare not hope for anything better except that maybe, just maybe, he doesn't completely hate me. But even then, I'm not so sure."

"Sometimes love can turn to hate." Lor admitted. "But from what little you've told me about this guy, I'd be pretty shocked if that were the case with him. He just doesn't seem, you know, cut out for that kind of intense hatred thing. I'll bet you he just wants you back."

"But I can't go back to him!" Helga exclaimed. "That's the whole point! My entire life, all I've ever wanted is for him to love with me. To want to be with me. I just wanted to be his bride. It scared me, okay? I lived for him. I would die for him. And I'd always considered the difference to be trivial, so long as he would look at me as a woman. But he never did. Not until the end. When he finally began to accept my feelings. When . . .when something finally happened between us. Fifteen years in the making, but we were finally on the same level. It was perfect. For a couple of days, anyway."

"And then what?"

"And then I became my usual self again." Helga sighed. "I have a tendency to do that."

"You're self-destructive too, huh?"

"Oh, rest assured, if there's a way to thwart myself, Lor, I'll find it. I'm just. . .ugh, it's like I'm not happy being happy. Does that make any sense?"

"Perfectly. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt. I'm no good when it comes to guys. I tend to pick the wrong ones."

"I've only ever wanted one." Helga sighed. "Isn't love supposed to be like the greatest feeling in the world? Because all it ever makes me feel is like my guts are being ripped out. I'm a basketcase."

"You know, for all our fighting, maybe we're lucky to have found each other." Lor grinned.

"Why? To remind ourselves of how pathetic we are?"

"Or to help pull each other out of our crap and get on with our lives."

"You have way too good an outlook on life." Helga sighed.

"Hey, it's how I get by. Don't knock it until you try it. I dunno, it may just be a holdover from Tish or something. But it's working so far."

"How do you know it's working?" Helga asked.

"You don't die." Lor said bluntly.

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Carl Foutley stood on the porch outside of the Pataki brownstone, looking the place up and down. "Not the greatest of neighborhoods, but judging from most of these places, these people live a lot better than most around here."

"I don't know, Carl. What if they still don't have much?" Robert shook his head in worry.

"Eh, I doubt they're living in squalor, if that's what you mean. Look at this building. Yeah, it's old, but it looks like it's being kept up. Some of the places we've seen look like they ought to be condemned!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. It's just, I've never lived in a big city before. Sheltered Shrubs is all I really know."

"I don't know, Hoods, but I'm thinking I could get used to a place like this. Anyway, let's get down to business so we can enjoy the scenery later." Carl focused on the task at hand, ringing the doorbell. After thirty seconds had passed with no change, he rang the bell again, pressing his hear to the door to listen for sounds of movement. The place seemed quiet, but he was certain there was someone at home. He could see the TV on through the living room window. Unfazed, he began knocking louder, which seemed to make his companion more nervous.

"Maybe there's no one here, Carl. We should come back later."

"Hang on, I think I hear something." Carl responded, ringing the bell on more time. The boys waited patiently for another twenty seconds, and the door finally opened before them, revealing a middle-aged blonde woman who looked as though she had just woken up.

"Hello?" The blonde asked, yawning freely. "May I help you boys with something?"

"Perhaps you can. The name's Carl Foutley. This is my associate, Hoods. P. Bishop. We're detectives. Of a sort."

"Detectives? I don't understand. Is something the matter?"

"Are you Miriam Pataki?" Robert blurted out.

"Hoods. . ." Carl moaned.

Miriam started. "I. . .yes, I'm Miriam Pataki. Is there a problem? Have I done something wrong?"

"Please, Mrs. Pataki," Carl began, "allow me to assure you that you're in no trouble. We're only trying to gather some information. May we come in?"

"Well, I don't know. My husband isn't here, and I don't think he would like it if I-"

"It'll only take a few minutes of your time, Mrs. Pataki." Carl gently pressed, not wanting to lose their first opportunity to make some headway.

"Well. . .I suppose it would be all right." Slowly, Miriam stepped aside, allowing the boys entrance.

"Thank you, Mrs. Pataki. I promise not to take up anymore of your time than necessary."

"That's all right. Please, follow me into the kitchen. I could use a little pick me up." Miriam explained. Carl and Hoodsey followed her, Foutley noticing the slight swagger Miriam Pataki held in her walk. Not so much sexy as it was stately. The woman probably had fascinating stories to tell. For an instant, he almost regretted that their stay here probably wouldn't last very long.

In the kitchen, Miriam put a pot of coffee on to brew, which both boys were grateful for. Caffeine was always a big help, the stimulant that made all the aches go away. "Now, what can I help you boys with, hmm?" Miriam asked, seemingly a lot more talkative now that they were all inside. Carl gestured towards the kitchen table, and the three of them took up seats around it. He withdrew a small envelope from his jacket pocket, opening it and removing a photograph. "Judging by the resemblance, I'd say that we're definitely in the right place. But I'm afraid that I have to ask." Carl stated. "Is this young lady your daughter?" He handed the picture to Miriam.

Mrs. Pataki only studied the picture for a moment. "That's. . .Helga. My daughter. Is she all right?" Miriam asked.

"That's what we're trying to find out." Robert chimed in. "We've got a report that she's gone missing."

"Missing!" The pitch in Miriam's voice rose. "My daughter is missing!"

"Hoods, chill." Carl scolded his partner. "We don't know that, Mrs. Pataki. I can give you the facts. No one seems to know where Helga is. However, she is not a missing persons case. Wherever it is that she's gone, it was of her own volition. No one took her, or did anything to her, so far as we know. She's probably fine. But some people would like to know where she is, and that she's all right."

"I see." Miriam didn't seem to be much less worried than before, but it seemed to Carl that she wasn't on the verge of a panic attack, which was a good start. "Have you tried checking with Arnold?" She asked.

"Arnold?" Both of the boys asked in unison.

"Her husband." Miriam explained.

"Carl, Courtney didn't say anything about a husband, did she?" Robert asked.

"Who's Courtney?" Miriam asked.

Carl moaned in frustration. This case was growing more complicated already. "Okay, Mrs. Pataki. This isn't something that I normally do. But I'm going to level with you. Hoodsey and I, it's like I said. We're detectives. Of a sort. We're not actual private eyes. We can't go snooping through people's private files. We're not licensed. We just, well, we find people. We're not the kind of guys you would call if, say, your daughter had been kidnapped. But we are the kind of guys who can follow a clear trail when we know there isn't foul play involved. What this means for you is that I can disclose some information I'd normally like to keep close to my chest. But you seem like a good woman. Okay, here's the deal. As far as I know, there is no direct relationship between Courtney and your daughter. Courtney is the woman that hired us to try and find Helga. Courtney did mention that this was a favor to a friend of hers, so it's probably safe to assume that whomever that friend is, she's the real person who wants to know where Helga is. As for Courtney, she's nothing to worry about. Nice girl, very pretty, a bit naïve about the world, you know the type. But she's footing the bill for our little search."

"I see." Miriam said in response, standing up and pacing back and forth, waiting for the water to boil so she would have something, anything, to help take her mind off of all this. Her daughter was missing! This didn't make any sense. Sure, Bob and Helga were still at each other's throats like there was no tomorrow, but she had just seen her daughter only a week ago. She had seemed so happy. That boy that she married, he brought something out in Helga that Miriam had never seen in her little girl before. Helga looked happy. Truly happy. What could have happened to her to make her lose that beautiful, radiant, alive look? The kettle whistled, and Miriam attended it absently, grabbing a container of instant coffee, and three mugs, scooping some of the crystals into each mug and then pouring the hot water.

"Mrs. Pataki?" Robert asked.

"I. . .yes?" Miriam responded, sounding distant.

"We're sorry about all this." Robert continued. "Really we are. I'm sure that Helga is fine. I hope that we're able to find her soon. Being her mother and all, we'll be glad to keep you posted on the situation"

"Thank you." Miriam sniffed. "But I just can't stop thinking that it's my fault."

"Your fault?" Carl asked, intrigued.

Miriam nodded. "I didn't pay enough attention to her. I thought she was happy."

"I'm sure she was." Carl consoled her, accepting the cup of coffee from his host. "Listen, Mrs. Pataki. In all honesty, I don't anticipate finding your daughter to be a difficult task. I'm sure that once we talk to the right people, we'll be able to figure out where she went, and everything will be back to normal. Now, you said she had a husband? An. . .Arnold?"

"Yes." Miriam nodded weakly.

"Any info you have on him?"

"He's. . .he's a good man. He stood up for her, treated her the way a husband should. They were so young, but. . .it's like they already knew how to be married to each other. They were love. Where could she be! Why didn't Arnold call me. . .no, that's not right. He didn't know that Helga and I were talking. I can give you his address. It isn't far from here."

"Thanks, Mrs. Pataki."

"Don't worry." Robert interjected. "We'll find her for you."

"Thank you boys." Miriam sniffed again.

The three of them said little after that, drinking their coffee. Carl decided that discretion might be the better part of valor and finished his quickly, taking down the information on Arnold. The hunt was on.

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"You know, this story just gets more interesting as it goes on." Nadine smirked, clearly enjoying Arnold's discomfort.

"I'm glad that it amuses you." Arnold rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad." Nadine encouraged him with her smile.

Rhonda fussed. "Yeah, well it's easier for you to hear than for me. You're not the one who still loves him."

"Fair enough." Nadine admitted. "But still, this would make one heck of a story."

"What, like one of those movies of the week?" Arnold chuckled.

"There you go. Sell the rights!" Nadine told him.

"Now wait just a minute here!" Rhonda protested. "This isn't just some. . . some story for the masses. This is our lives! There's so much at stake here!"

"I know." Nadine admitted. "Hey, Rhonda? Can I talk to you for a minute?" The blonde girl asked anxiously, something obviously on her mind.

Rhonda reluctantly acquiesced, leaving a very anxious Arnold behind in the living room while the girls slipped into the bathroom, Nadine shutting the door behind her. "Okay, fine. I'll bite. What's so important that you need to distract me from the task at hand."

"Free advice?" Nadine offered.

"I'm listening." Rhonda hoisted herself onto the sink, looking outward at her best friend. Even if the two of them weren't overly close anymore, there was still a lot of history between them. They still cared about each other.

"You should give up."

"I beg your pardon?" Rhonda asked, unsure if she had heard her friend correctly.

"Give up. Let Helga have him." Nadine reiterated.

"Are you insane!" Rhonda asked indignantly.

"Truthfully? I did go through a period where I wasn't certain. You don't really know what to think about yourself when nothing motivates you anymore. When you stop feeling everything. When you look at yourself in the mirror and you aren't sure that it's you. But you've never known that, have you Rhonda?"

"What are you talking about, Nadine?"

"Nothing. It doesn't mean anything." Nadine sighed. "I'm just offering you the advice of a friend. Forget about Arnold. Let Helga have him."

"No." Rhonda said flatly.

"No?" Nadine repeated.

"No." Rhonda said more forcefully. "I'm not giving Arnold up without a fight. And not without knowing that she can do better by him than me. But she can't! For God's sake Nadine, she can't even be here now when Arnold needs her the most!"

"This isn't about Helga. It's about you. And it's about Arnold. You know that he loves her."

"So?" Rhonda countered. "He loves me too! And don't even think I don't know that he had some feelings for you at some point in time."

"It's no secret that Arnold and I were each other's first serious significant other." Nadine nodded. "But that was a long time ago. We've both moved on. You know, Rhonda, just because you love someone, doesn't mean you can live with them."

"You're right." Rhonda smirked. "And fortunately for me, it would seem that Helga has already learned that lesson. Sounds like a win-win scenario if you ask me."

"You're deliberately missing the point." Nadine sighed.

"I don't see any point to miss, Nadine. Arnold and I have a future together. A good future. But I have to be patient. I need to just be here from him now. That's what _I've _learned. And once he gets past all this, that's when things will truly begin again for us."

"Are you really so sure that you're the one who's meant to be with Arnold?" Nadine asked as Rhonda turned to exit.

Miss Lloyd's hand trembled on the doorknob, rattling it slightly. At length, she turned around to face the blonde once more. "Maybe not. But it's a chance I have to take. I care too much about what happens to him. We're connected, Arnold and I. How can I just leave him to someone else? How can I ever trust someone else to love him as I do? I can't, all right? Is that what you wanted to hear? I can't do it. I love him, Nadine, that's all there is to it. Maybe Helga does love him more. I don't know that. I don't know if there's even a way that I ever could. But only until I see for myself will I ever even think of letting him go." Rhonda let herself out of the bathroom.

Arnold looked up, noting the grim expression on her face. "Rhonda? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Rhonda tossed off, not wanting to look directly at him. "Nadine just wanted to sell me something, is all." And she walked into the kitchen.

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Author's Notes

Okay, so I know you've all been waiting awhile for a new chapter. It really wasn't supposed to take this long. It just, well, did. Real life is challenging me in all sorts of new ways lately, plus I've taken on a side project so my attention is split. And I know, that's a bad thing. I don't really mean for these things to happen. I feel like I'm always writing lately. And it's true, I'm writing everyday. And nothing comes as easily as it used to. It makes me worry that I'm getting old, that I'm losing my touch. Wow, that's a scary thought. But maybe it's because this isn't all fun to me. Of course, I enjoy it a lot. If I didn't, I wouldn't keep devoting all this time to the writing. But it's also a responsibility that I have to all of you wonderful readers out there. There's nothing that makes me feel worse than disappointing the fandom. I hate that feeling. Anyway, now to the slightly sad news. By the time you read this, I will have just begun a very demanding work schedule at a new job that will work to make writing difficult on the better days, outright impossible on others. There's just no way around it. That's right. It's been 30 chapters in the making, but I finally have to do it—I can no longer guarantee a weekly update schedule. Up until now, you've been able to depend on a new chapter every week (with a few exceptions, of course, like the last few weeks). But I'm afraid I can't reasonably promise that any longer. It pains me to say it. But I don't want to give up on the story. And I'd also like to mention that this doesn't mean I won't be updating for months at a time or anything. What I mean is, I might need two weeks to do what used to take me one. I hope this won't come across as too big a disappointment. I'm still plenty dedicated.

There now, maybe that wasn't so bad after all. Now, it suddenly occurs to me that I haven't typed out review responses in awhile and, well, I'd like to say I'll get to that tonight, but I won't, because I have to go to bed right after I finish typing this. Good Lord, I'm on a normal 8-4:30 schedule. How do people do this? I am not a morning person! I was made to work the second shift! Gaaaaa! What was I thinking? It's madness, I tell you. Maaaadnessss! Ok, I'm fine now. Really, I am. I'm just stressing as this job that I'm starting in….nine hours and four minutes is very high end and I need to be successful at it. And I've just spent most of my Sunday night trying to relax. By watching cartoons. And I'm 26 years old. What amazes me so much about that is because I _like _them so much. I don't feel too old for them these shows when I watch them. They're exciting to me. I love the characters, the stories, the animations styles. I guess some would say this all makes me a very special kind of person. Many would say that I'm either childish or easily amused. I can't say that I would deny either one in a court of law. But cartoons are my inspiration, and what keep me coming back to this keyboard to bang out something for you all to enjoy. So I say that you're never too old for cartoons, and you shouldn't let anyone tell you otherwise. Because after everything is said and done, cartoons are there to be fun. That almost sounds funny coming from me, considering a lot of the work that I write is rather serious, but I try never to lose track of who the characters are and the magic inside of them.

Gee, am I writing a dissertation here or what. Anyway, I had fun. I hope you did too. I'm actually expecting this chapter to create a ton of buzz, if for no other reason than what I cooked up between Helga and Arnold. A special shout-out to The J.A.M. for adding a little spice to my recipe with that sequence when I was feeling stumped. He really helped me out of a, well, jam. Pun intended. Man, I'm just full of wit tonight. I'd better clear out of here before I start getting stuff thrown at me. You all know what to do. Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

03/20/06

6:22AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	31. Step Lively

Step Lively

Helga ran lively against the treadmill's conveyor belt, enjoying the blast of cool air being directed at her from a nearby vent as she went through her running exercise, something she had resolved to do twice a week so she could lose her baby fat. She hadn't noticed a single difference in the past month, but she was determined to keep doing it anyway. It was good for her. Or so she had been told by the gentleman who had talked her into taking her membership in the first place. Helga occasionally wondered if it was a moment of weakness. The guy reminded her of Arnold too much, with his blonde hair and green eyes. He was taller than Arnold, though. And his head wasn't as oblong as her beloved's. But still, Helga grudgingly had to admit that he was easy on the eyes.

She cursed herself for allowing her thoughts to drift towards her husband, however vaguely. It was a distraction she didn't need at the moment. Arnold had done a wonderful job of making himself clear on how he felt about her. She was a force to be tolerated, nothing more. He didn't really care about her. In spite of everything she had tried to do for him. True, she was no angel. She had lied and cheated and stolen her way into their marriage, and she knew that given the opportunity, she would probably do it again. Even if things turned out the same way. Just knowing that she had been able to make her life-long dream come true was worth it. Even if the pleasure couldn't last for more than a few hours. The reassurance that it was physically possible for this to happen sustained her. Yet ultimately, it wasn't enough. Helga needed more. She needed what everyone truly wants, deep down. To be loved. Was it really so much to ask? Maybe. But it couldn't be impossible. She refused to believe that. Surely, there had to be some way, some circumstance which could change their relationship. Something that would make Arnold want to be with her. Something big and exciting and free. And she would find it, somehow. One way or another, she would find it and put things together for them. Falling in love was their destiny, and she refused to accept any other.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_It's warm. Warmer than it should be. A taste of summer, the TV weathermen are calling it. I can't say that I'm complaining, it's been so long since I've been able to ride in my car with the windows down. It's a rather exciting feeling, with the wind in my hair and the volume on the radio up. Things are starting to look like I remember. On my way home, I swung by Lucky Elementary School. Spring Break is on, so the place was empty. But I wasn't there to walk the halls again anyway. Mainly, I wanted to see the playground. To picture the dichotomy in my mind. There's kind of an eerie feeling that you get, when you sit on a swingset that you haven't been on in ten or eleven years. I was twelve when I moved on to Lucky Junior High, leaving recess behind for good. Everything is just like I remember it though. The trees, the fences, the jungle gym, it's all here. Only smaller. At least, it seems that way, but then, I've gotten a lot bigger in my absence. And to think, this used to encompass the scope of my entire world. At least, my school world. Sure, I spent way more time in the classroom, but this is where it all happened. This is where the BFF bonds were forged. I've let myself forget that somewhere along the way. We all did. I miss those days. We didn't know how good we had it. Just exceptionally naïve kids being kids. It was easy. I didn't even have to worry about Carl so much. Nothing ever lasts, though. Why are our childhoods so short, anyway? We spend the whole thing wanting to grow up. Now that I'm 22, I already want to be a kid again. What's going to happen to me when I'm middle aged! Nobody knows. All part of the mystery of life. We don't know where we're going to. It's all temporary. We might as well live our lives like we're going to die, because we're going to, pure and simple. There's nothing we can do about it, except enjoy the time we have here. Try to take pleasure in the little things in life. It's not much, but it's all we can do. But you know what? It's precisely the kind of thing that spring days are for. _

_They say that spring is a time for love, and who am I to argue? I know that I've missed my man, I'll raise my hand for that one. It's not easy to be away for long periods at a time. But my work makes me do strange things. At least, that's what I like to blame it all on. Some people might call my recent trip an irresponsible farce, and I guess there's something to that outlook. Sometimes it's just hard to tell. I never really know where I'm going or what I'm doing. I just struggle to get by and hope that it all works out, same as everyone else. I pick my battles, I stand up for what I believe in. Some days, I eat the bear. And on other days, he eats me. Nothing for it but to keep trying. Does that sound melancholy to you? Because I start to lose track after awhile. Stream of consciousness thing going on here. _

_I had a call waiting on my answering machine when I finally got home. Darren had let himself in a few times while I was gone, he'd already heard it. But he said that I should listen to it himself. I'll never forget that. The instant when my life changed. Here I was, coming home with this exciting news. But Darren had that look that told me this was really important, so I listened. I reached out with the index finger on my right hand and pushed the play button on my answering machine. And everything in my life changed within that forty second span of listening to the recording. My dad has cancer. It's serious. I called the doctor and was able to find out that he's not dying. At least, not yet. But they have to operate in the next week or two, or he'll get worse. I've been told that the surgery is a lot less dangerous than it sounds, there isn't much risk that he won't make it. But there could be repercussions. I've seen some of the images they've taken. It's pushing against his brainstem, which will eventually kill him if they don't remove it out. But the danger he's really facing is nerve damage. If complications develop, I might never see my dad smile again, or he might lose his ability to balance properly. All of this makes me kind of scared, but the worst part is knowing that there's nothing I can do except be there for him. I don't want anything to happen to dad. I haven't gotten to know him well enough last. Even though I've seen him occasionally for about ten years, there are still so many things that I haven't asked him yet, so many things we haven't done together. I can't imagine getting married and him not being there. He's a part of me. _

_It's funny. For most of my life, my parents have been invincible. Especially my mom. I've never had to face the fact that like all of us, they have a mortality. Sure, I've always known that some day, they'll pass away. But that always seemed so far away to me. Now, it's a lot more real. Even if dad comes through this without a hitch. . .he's still going to die. Maybe not from this, and maybe not for a long time. But he will die. And so will Mom. Even I will. I've never had to deal with that before. I've been living as though I'm immortal. Maybe that was the problem. Even if I plan to live forever, that's not what's going to happen. It doesn't seem right, somehow. Maybe that's just my selfishness coming out. I know I have trouble with that sometimes. I know what you're thinking. I don't seem the type. And there's definitely something to that. It isn't me, not really. But I'm not perfect. I'm not that delicate, despite all of my trying. And I hate it when I'm like this. I hate it when I put myself before others. But at times like this, I don't know what else to do. How else can I react, when there's nothing else I can do but struggle to keep on living? To be as supportive as I can be. Is that really all that is left for me?_

_There is one other thing I remember about coming home. The way Darren told me that it was going to be okay. I really wanted to believe him. I still want to believe him. And everything may be okay. There's a pretty good chance that Dad will come through just fine, with no major complications or problems. But the thing that has me paralyzed at the moment is this realization that even if that's what happens, nothing will ever be the same for me again. I have to accept the truth that one day, something else will happen, and it won't be okay. I'm just not ready for it. And until I figure out how to deal with that, I don't really know what's going to happen to me. _

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She's sleeping quietly beside me. And here I sit, looking out over her form. Eighty-seven days. Eighty-seven days come and gone and this is the closest we've been in that entire period. And in less than a week, the whole affair becomes null and void. And we become what? Strangers? Acquaintances? Memories from a simpler life, full of baseball and urban legends and ice cream and parties? What happened to all of that? What happened to my childhood? I miss it. I want it back. But you can't have it back, it's all going off without me. Without us.

You would think this would upset her. But not Helga. No one tells her what to do. No, if there's one thing I've come to realize Helga is good at, it's doing nothing. She puts on a good show, talks a good game, complains with the best of them; but she won't take control of her life. She'd rather let things happen to her. No, maybe that's wrong. She did something, or I wouldn't be here. But why won't she help me now?

Instead, she's sleeping. She sleeps peacefully, the sleep of the dead, looking less troubled unconscious than I've ever seen while awake. The haunted look in her eyes is gone. Her slightly rounded stomach rises and falls with each breath she draws in. My eyes are drawn to my favorite area of her skin, a firm patch between the soft flesh of her tummy and the subtle curves of her modest chest, hidden away beneath the white sport bra that has doubtlessly seen many nights in this bed. I plant my head on that sweet spot below the fabric of her bra, listening to her heartbeat, feeling more alive each time I hear it and trying to imprint this moment in my head. Her features seem so delicate in the still of night, illuminated only by the fractional moonlight that spills in through blinds in the window. Those bright, blue eyes are shut to the world. I lift my head, bringing a finger to trace her unibrow, still distinctive yet much thinner than in those days long past, more like a testament to a time long forgotten. Very slowly, and with much effort, I'm able to hook an arm underneath her. And suddenly, I realize that I'm holding Helga Pataki. Possibly the most certifiably insane woman in all the world, or at least this city. But she might also be the most brilliant. And, I'm beginning to realize, the greatest thing that could've happened to me after graduating. Did she see the quiet desperation in me long before she ran me through that drive-thru chapel? I like to think so. And now she's all but lost to me, and this is the closest we've ever been, only the second time we've ever slept in the same bed since the wedding. And still she insists upon hating me, repeating it like a mantra.

I can hear a whisper, something that sounds like my name through the foggy dreams of her mind, pushed out by her subconscious. She shifts in her slumber, her head falling against my neck, legs curling, half tangling with my own, her feet hooking down past mine. Nine long years and she's still taller than me, I've given up. She settles in, her breath tickling my skin, making my entire being shudder when those wisps of air pass her lips and penetrate my ear. Her scent is overpowering, the unmistakable odor of pure femininity, something one would not ordinarily associate with Helga. There is no lie of makeup or perfume with her. And no one else would know her as I do this night, they don't understand that. How could they? And I can't help but weep, because in my mind I know that however tight she hold me this night, in the morning she will despise me, because that's all she knows how to do with me. She'll awaken to a new day and lie to me like she always does, knowing I can see it in her eyes and looking away if I question her. All my life, I've been waiting for someone to love me, and no girl would ever consent to. They would spend my money, wear my jacket, kiss my lips, get me to do things for them—but they all refused to love me. And now I'm lying next to the most difficult person I have known for the entirety of my existence, and it's so painfully obvious that she's already giving me that love. But she won't let me see it. Maybe she's getting back at me for not noticing it sooner. Maybe she's just afraid to be happy. But in three more days, she'll fly away, and I'll be alone again. Somehow it feels like the story of my life.

I get so angry, yet I still can't resist. I can't help but thread my fingers with strands of her hair. It lies pooled around her head completely undone. Undone. That's the best way to describe it. I'm the one who's undone. This woman owns me, she's inside and I feel trapped, because she won't own up to the reality. And for the first time, I want to curse the heavens. Haven't they already taken enough from me? Haven't I helped enough people in this life? Can't you let me be selfish, just this once?

My hand slides over her stomach, and I know that I'm in trouble. Why does she have to feel so good? I could knead this delicious patch of flab all night, the only scrap of fat on her entire body, it makes her seem a little more real, more human. My breath catches as I realize that I'm fingering the elastic band of her tired pink sweatshorts, trusty night wear that has probably seen her through almost every night. I slowly withdraw, afraid I might do something that Helga would be unlikely to forgive. So instead I just hold her closer, wishing for the night to stay, hating myself because I'm no better than her. She snuggles into me, her head tightly locked between my neck and shoulder, legs coiled around my form, her chest pressed tightly against my own, her subconscious desires betraying her conscious denials. If she wakes up like this, she'll blame me. But who are we to blame, when we're just a couple of cowards seeking refuge in each other, but unwilling to cross that chasm that separates night from day?

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"Why are you telling me all of this?" Nadine asked, wondering at the motivations behind Arnold's sudden change of heart. It wasn't like him to be so revealing, so willing to wear his heart on his sleeve. What had changed?

"Because I'm afraid if I don't tell someone, I'll go mad." Arnold chuckled dryly to himself, a look of quiet desperation in his eyes.

"You don't think that Rhonda deserves to hear?"

"I'm afraid that if she does, she won't be able to bear it. If you were her, would you want to hear this? Even I'm not sure if it was real anymore. I've lost track of everything with Helga. Why I was so angry with her, why I fell for her. When I think about her now, it's just crazy. She's like this force within me, growing larger all the time, mocking me. I can't stop thinking about her. And then I think about Rhonda. . .and these waves of tenderness wash over me. She's so different than Helga. Rhonda is my first love after losing you."

"And she certainly wasn't a bad choice." Nadine smiled. "No matter what happened with us, if we had broken up over a fight or anything, I like to think I would've been okay with you and Rhonda hooking up."

"Were you?" Arnold asking.

"Actually, I was. Back then, when I saw you two together, I always expected to feel a bit jealous. Maybe even a little hurt. But, I didn't feel anything. I wasn't happy for you. I wasn't jealous over you. I wasn't hurt, or angry, or confused, or anything. It wasn't a great time for me. I was trapped inside this period where I just didn't feel anything for anyone, even myself. I didn't know what to feel. I'm a little worried that I might have forgotten how to feel back then. If it weren't for Sid, I might still be there, with that empty smile."

"It's okay, Nadine."

"It wasn't okay before. But it is now. But pardon me for unburdening myself, but why I came here today—when I'm honest, I suspect I'm just distracting myself from not wanting to face my life without Sid in it. Why else would I have run to the two people I trust most after him?"

"There's nothing wrong with that, Nadine. Don't beat yourself up. You're still alive. That's what matters, isn't it? That you keep going, in spite of everything. You're not beaten yet."

"It'll take a lot more to get rid of me." Nadine smirked. "But I have to admit—the idea of you and Helga, like you were just describing? It never seemed quite so far-fetched to me. Somehow, I always suspected that deep down, she was sort of sensitive. I mean, no one could've really been like how she acted right?"

"That's true. And, over time, I did adjust to Helga. Don't get me wrong, we put each other through a lot. But when you live with someone, you begin to get a better appreciation for who they are. Including their faults. I guess I just got used to her."

"She's that kind of a girl. You spend a lot of time wishing she would go away, only to find out that you miss her when she's gone."

"Yeah, that about sums it up." Arnold nodded. "Crazy, isn't it?"

"Love always is."

"So why do I have this bloated, sickly feeling inside all the time? Like no matter what I do, I have to hurt people."

"The way that Helga hurt you?" Nadine asked.

"Yeah. Exactly like that. No one else should have to feel that way."

"Yet sometimes, it can't be helped. As wonderful as love is, sometimes it really sucks."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

Nadine smiled, punching him playfully in the shoulder. "Because if the world was fair, this would still be high school. We'd still be sophomores, teetering with the brink of admitting we love each other, and none of this stuff would've happened to either of us."

"Those were the days, weren't they?"

"Hey Arnold?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember that poster in the high school library?"

"Which one?"

"The one that said 'smile, these are the best years of your life.' I never believed that back then. But I do now."

The two sat in silence for a moment, then Arnold ventured something. "Do you think we can ever go back?"

Nadine turned her head towards him, looking at the regret in his sorrowful, green eyes. She did pity him. Here was a boy whom love had made a fool of, no question there. He had been made so fragile, much like herself. He wasn't the same boy she had known. But there were still traces of him there. Slowly, but with purpose, Nadine placed her palms on his cheeks, leaned in, and kissed him. She could almost taste his sorrow as she did, as though it were something tangible she could hold in her hands, taste in her mouth. Yet there were also bubbles of hope that kept rising towards the surface. Arnold wasn't done yet, he was stronger than he let on. He wouldn't give up without a fight. That was the Arnold she knew. So young and full of life, that was the Arnold she wanted to protect. She wished she could somehow give him what Sid had given her, but in the end, this was the only comfort she could provide. She very slightly pulled her lips away, allowing herself to stay mere millimeters away from his own, her right hand tangled in his hair. "No." She breathed, voicing the sad truth neither of them wanted to admit. Their childhood had passed. "But we can visit." She kissed him once more, but only for a moment, forcing herself to move away. Now, finish telling me what happened between you and Helga that night. And don't spare the details. Tell me just like before."

Arnold told her.

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_Author's Notes_

I know that everyone has been waiting a very long time for me to update, so I really appreciate that. My whole life has been turned upside-down with this new job, and the stress of the work combined with the lackluster schedule I'm forced to follow for the time being makes my time for writing pretty close to non-existent, and I'm sorry to say that. Worse, I'm afraid that the bit about cancer I put into this chapter's Ginger column was more fact that fantasy, at least for me, so I've really been coping with a lot of stuff at home as well. My mother isn't taking it well at all, I'm sad to say. Plus as soon as dad has the surgery, there's going to be a lot of stuff I have to do. Man, I remember a time when I was able to update this story every week. Whatever happened to those days, eh? I miss them. I'm hoping that sometime this summer, I can get back to that. Or at least, every other week. That would certainly be a boost to me. I miss all of you, truly. I miss the support I used to get just from writing this story. It always made me feel better to put out a chapter. My regret this time is that I couldn't give you more. But if I don't put something out now, I'm afraid everyone will think that I've abandoned this story. And I assure you all, that's just not true at all. This story is still near and dear to me. Everyone who's read it has been so good to me, I could never turn around and leave this one unfinished. This just means too much to me. I only wish that this update were coming to you under better circumstances from me. But the show must go on. I think I need this update more than all of you who have been waiting.

For those among you who are waiting for an update on _Gravity_, I think I have a good half a chapter on that already, I've been working on random paragraphs every now and then for that. As opposed to this chapter, which I did in only three sittings or so. When I get an idea, I just run with it, at least as far as IG goes. I prefer to give some real creative time to this story. _Gravity_ writes itself a bit easier, but I think that's because it doesn't have so many different plots going. IG is by far the most complicated thing I have ever written, and I do feel as though it's crushing me sometimes, while at others, my fingers are flying over the keyboard. Such was the case with the Arnold/Nadine footage at the end of this chapter. That may be the best scene that I've ever written between those two, but I prefer to leave such judgment to the readers. As an author, I might just be feeling too attached on that one.

Okay, I'm getting really tired, I still have stuff to take care of, I need to know when to call it quits. I wish I could tell you all when the next update will be. Sometime. That's all I can say for now. I hate that I have to leave it that open-ended, I really do. Please, just bare with me for now. I'm sorry to ask that of you, but it's the best I can do. Remember, this to shall pass. Sooner or later, I'll be back to my old, productive self. Until then, well, I guess you could always read the story again. Who knows, you might end up seeing something you never did before.

Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

5/15/06

3:11AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile 26


	32. Broken Link

Broken Link 

I let her sleep for what felt like an eternity. Me? I'm not much for sleep. I can sleep when I'm dead. In less than 72 hours, my greatest opportunity in this world will fly out of my grasp, and I'm going to fight for it every minute. It starts here, like this. If I lose everything, I am determined to remember this night for the rest of my life. The first time in these three months that I've been able to breathe. Breathe, and see a world more vibrant and clear. I'm finally next to someone who will love me, and I have nearly three days to get her to admit it. I won't give up so easy, Helga. You've spent your whole life running away from me, but this time I'm going to give you chase.

And it starts now. I lift myself over her, looking down at her sleeping form, floating through a dream which seemed to give her the only happiness I've ever seen her know. Her hair still flows about her head gently, smelling too clean and pure to be of this world. Gently, I grip strands and slowly stretch them out, careful not to pull. It takes some effort, and I begin to feel like an artist standing over a painting, but no one as ordinary as me could create the true work of art lying beneath me. Still, with time and patience, I am able to recreate a reasonable facsimile of the hairstyle I remember her having when I was a boy, and the world was quiet. Unsettling how she doesn't look so much different than I remember. Her features are a little fuller, figure a bit more grown and womanly, but she's unmistakably Helga, herself and no one else. Her features are remarkably crafted, a face that provides irrefutable proof of her parentage. Many would hardly look twice, considering her undesirable. And it's not like I'm seeing her through rose-colored glasses. But maybe I'm just tired of the beautiful girls, batting eyelashes while giving full-of-shit smiles and fondling a knife behind their backs. Not Helga. She isn't beautiful, and she doesn't try to be or even pretend to be. She makes no apologies for who she is. I need that honesty. I need it and thrive on it.

I miss her bow. I'm saddened to realize that I can't remember when exactly it disappeared from her usual attire. Helga wasn't exactly someone I directed a large amount of attention towards when I was younger. Funny, I always figured she preferred it that way. I should've made more of an effort to figure girls out. I still don't understand them today, this one least of all.

I glance at the alarm clock, 5:17AM. The blinds are shut tight to guard against the rays of sun that will soon be trying to worm their way into the room. I reach over and shut the alarm off long before it has a chance to go off. I won't be needing any help this morning. I smile to myself as I brush my lips against hers, determined to be a much more pleasant greeting than any conglomeration of screws and springs could dream of.

It occurs to me this probably isn't quite as romantic as it should be, considering that Helga doesn't sleep lightly. Nevertheless, there's a response, perhaps a reflex or just the trigger of a dream. She kisses me back, and it's more than I'm prepared for. Demanding, yet not forceful. Slow and soft and long and sweet, demanding response but never taking more than I had to give. A barely audible mew of pleasure speaks the truth, she's been awake and waiting for me. That's the Helga I know. She slides her tongue against my lips in response, not to get inside, just to get a taste, I'm guessing. What excites me is that I don't get those kinds of things she does.

I fight back for control, digging my thumbs into the small of her back to make her gasp. I don't know why I feel like I have a map of her body's subtle nuances, like I know exactly where she needs to be stroked for maximum effectiveness. I struggle to try and remember any other time we were this close, but nothing comes up. My brain feels like its pushing through Jell-O. Whatever it is, it's right. Dangerous and crazy, but right. I can feel the nails on her left hand rake across my back, in a rhythmic motion, making me taste my own medicine. She's more than I expected. She smiles at me through the kiss, almost wickedly, then flips us, putting me in a precarious position. Trying to best her, I lift a hand to the delicate skin of her stomach, hoping I can tickle her into submission. I'm successful for only a moment, she quickly seizes my hand and claims it as her own, trapping me. She flattens my palm against her flesh, breathing deeply as she proceeds to slowly slide it under her top, trapping my fingers so I can't withdraw or move anywhere she doesn't want me to, making me feel like the child I am. She draws her lips back just long enough to whisper "gotcha" before clamping down on me once more. How did I let her dominate me so easily? I don't even remember it happening. She has everything I want, and she knows it. She has my hand trapped tightly so that I can't pull back or push it forward, my fingertips caught just short of her left breast, clearly no accident.

"Fifteen years." I whispered to her between kisses. "It took that long and nearly 3 months of being married just for this?"

"Good things come to those who wait." Helga laughed. "Besides, it's not my fault you couldn't pick up on my signals."

"You mean yelling at me, calling my names, and generally torturing me in various ways, being told how much you hate me all the time. Yeah, how could I have missed that?"

"I don't know. I guess that's what makes you a man." Helga rolled her eyes, smirking. "Besides. . .you know I don't go in for that girly crap. I remember you once told me that I'm not very dainty, for a girl. But I don't really like girls very much. They like to complain that boys lie to them to try and get into their pants. And maybe that's true. But you know what? Girls are so full of shit. They're always lying to someone. Themselves, each other, their boyfriends. . .no thanks, that's not for me. I tell it straight and if you don't like it, too damn bad. That's why I've always hung out with you guys. I understand the way you think better. I like how you say what you mean. I relate to that. You don't make everything so. . .complex. The biggest drama you guys get into is disputed calls during games. Of course, I liked to be around to provide my fair and impartial take on the situation."

I laughed at her confession. "If that's the case, how come I was always the one you said was out, or fouled, or who fumbled, or--"

"Because I wanted you to pay attention to me. I wanted you to notice me. And in my book, a dirty look from you was better than no look at all."

"So you liked being one of the guys?" I wondered.

"Loved it. I still do." Her lips sought mine again, and I allow her to take control. I'm certainly enjoying the places she's taking me, and I'm not about to ruin the mood by trying to control her. She'd only make me pay for it later. "Anyhow," she eases up on my hand, dragging it over her breast and indicating the proper way to cup it before releasing me, "it's not much, but I'm still a girl where it counts."

"I'm sorry we took so long, wasted all that time." I feel sheepish. She looks at me like she's disappointed, and a tad worried. I shut my eyes and realize that this girl just explained so much of her life to me, then placed my hand directly on her breast, and here I am talking, like I'm not really interested. I'm so stupid! Why am I always like this? I lost a lot of girls in high school because I missed such obvious signs, you would think I'd have improved at least somewhat by now. I stow my comments, awkwardly trying to kiss her as she deserves and massage her flesh at the same time, doing a spectacularly lame job at both tasks. No more unsolicited talk. I push upwards, moving her position from lying atop me more to sitting in my lap. She looks into my eyes with an expression that is a marriage between desire and apprehension. Carefully, I cup her chin in my left hand, tilting her mouth to mine and kissing her properly, using my free hand to slide the straps of her bra down her thin arms. She gives little resistance as I slowly remove the garment and wrap my arms around her, feeling like a husband for the first time since this entire affair began. The flesh along her spine responds so wonderfully to every little touch, not to mention the indescribably new and wonderful sensation of flesh against flesh. I feel as though I had been entrusted with this girl, and every part of her feels so good, her skin soft and smooth, her limbs distinct and bony yet somehow right. This early in the morning when the world is quiet, how I wish I could truly make us one, not merely through the act of making love, but for the two of us to be melded into one new being. I can't help wondering if that's a normal feeling.

Her hand is rustling around in the drawer next to her bed, and my heart beats faster as I realize what she must be searching for. "You don't need to." I whisper, worrying I'm somehow asking too much of her.

"Trust me, Football Head, I've been planning this ever since I got this place for us." Her eyes light up as she finds what she's looking for, closing her fingers around it. She kisses me tightly as she presses it into my hands, and I'm feeling nervous and worried about doing this just right for her as my own fingertips explore the present she has given me and I realize it isn't something that comes in a plastic packet, but rather something small and metallic.

I widen my eyes and pull away from her lips to examine what she has presented me with. "Helga? This is. . ."

"It's my key. I thought you might want to give it to Geraldo. This is a nice place, Arnold. I figure you and your friend should live here together, at least until he gets around to marrying my best friend. If he's going to marry her. . ."

"What about us, Helga? This is our place. . ."

"I paid three months rent in advance, Arnold. If you want to stay longer, well, I guess you'll have to come up with it."

"I thought we were staying here."

"I can't. I'm sorry, Arnold. My flight leaves at 10:45 this morning."

"What? What flight? I don't understand, why are you leaving when we're just starting to get along. I don't want this to end now!"

"I'm going away to figure some stuff out for myself. I need to stand on my own, Arnold. We only have two days left anyway. I. . .I didn't want to have any kind of messy goodbyes. Come Friday, it'll be like we were never married. Just in time for your weekend. I tried to think of everything, you know."

"Helga, what we have here is good, so good. Okay, so maybe it was kind of weird and twisted when it started, but. . .who ever said that love is supposed to make sense, right? Please don't leave me."

The look on her face is indescribable. Full of such sorrow, yet it's also so beautiful. Her hand seizes mine, fingers interlocking, a squeeze that feels serious and heartfelt. "I have whispered those very words just out of your earshot so many times."

"You don't have to anymore. I'm here. I'm here and you're with me and you're so soft and beautiful. . ."

She laughs at me, not haughtily, more like the way Grandpa does when he finds some situation of mine amusing. "You're just saying that because you've got me here half naked." She smiled. "I don't have to go just yet, you know."

"Don't go at all. Or if you must, then take me with you."

"I hardly think that would be advisable."

"I'd rather find out for myself."

"Arnold. . .don't make this harder on me than it already is."

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"Hold me all morning. Make love to me. And understand that if you really do love me, you have to let me do this."

"Would you come back?"

"I'll come back, Arnold. I swear it."

"To me?"

"I. . .don't know. I want to. That's why I have to go and figure myself out. How can I be a proper wife when I'm on the verge of breaking down all the time? How can I learn to live with you when I can't live with myself?"

"You know I need you here, Helga." No more. I hold her form to me, drinking from her lips, giving in to my need to be closer to her.

"Shhh." She whispered into my lips. "No more questions. I'm here right now." I could feel her hands sliding over my form, seizing everything.

"I can't."

"You have got to be kidding."

"Sorry, but. . .suddenly I'm not in the mood." I rolled out of bed, leaving her sprawled out and confused. Too bad. She can't possibly be as confused as I am.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To make breakfast." My voice felt as cold as it sounded.

"You are not! You get your tiny shiny hiney back here and have your way with me!"

"I said I'm not in the mood, Helga. I'm not about to give myself to someone who just told me she's going to abandon me."

"Oh please! Why does everything always have to be about you, Arnold?"

"It is not always about me! And if you'll recall, I didn't choose to be here in the first place. This entire married thing was your brilliant scheme. And if you can't handle the fact that I actually managed to develop the feelings you've been hoping for all these years, then frankly Helga, that's your problem!"

"I'm your wife, and you're too self-righteous to bed me! This has got to be one for the record books!"

"How do you want your eggs?"

"I'm trying to have a discussion about our freaking marriage here!"

"And I'm trying to make my lovely wife some breakfast before she goes gallivanting off to who knows where to 'find herself.' You really take the cake, Helga. What do you expect to find out there that you can't here?"

"Solitude. And don't do me any favors, Arnoldo. I'll fend for myself, thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"Fuck yourself!"

"That's what you'll have to do." I caught those words only a microsecond after I had said them, cursing myself silently. I turned around to relent, only to see that Helga was refusing to look at me. She did finally turn, and I can't recall ever seeing her looking angrier. My apology died in my throat. I settled on my disappointed look and trudged downstairs. Letting her know I'm disappointed in her is about the only way I can think of getting to her, anyhow.

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_Hello, Strangers!_ By Ginger Foutley

_Some weeks, I'm really not sure how I make it. I'm not even sure where the time goes to. I just exist. I get up, do my routines. Eat. Sleep. Bathe. Breathe. I tell what day of the week it is by how tired I am. That's my life. At least, it can be. Maybe I shouldn't complain too much. It's not that it was a terrible week. It actually went by pretty fast. But that always seems to happen whenever I busy myself. I've had to do a lot of waiting lately. Waiting on dad. Waiting on my work. Waiting on inspiration. It's amazing how much of our lives we spend just waiting. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting to get to the front of the line. Waiting to find out what it all means. I wish I knew. Because I don't have all the answers, you can ask me all the questions you want. I know some of you think I do. Because I read my fan mail, all of it. Even the ones that just say things like "Dear Ginger, you are so hawt. We should hook up sometime." Those actually make me giggle a little. It takes all kinds, right? And some of you send me the best stories. Sweet, funny, tragic. If there something I've taken from these experiences, it's that I really enjoy people. Maybe I'm doing exactly what I was born to do. And that's a little scary to me, because there aren't a lot of people that do that. I'm not really sure what to make of it. I feel as though I'm getting away with something. Maybe my life is just charmed, I don't know. I take things for granted, no question there. Or more specifically, I take people for granted. It's not such a hard thing to do, really. I just. . .get used to people being there. And then when they aren't, I feel kind of, well, different. I've been thinking about that trip that I took, and now more than ever, I think it was the right thing to do. I needed to be out there on my own without a support group. Who would've thought that I'd picked such a bad time? I've been talking to Melinda a lot lately, she's my dad's significant other. She seems so nice. I met her for coffee a few days ago, she really needs someone right now. My dad is. . .well, he's not right, according to her. His surgery went so well, but now. . .Melinda says that he's angry all the time. He picks fights with her, won't sit still, chases her out of rooms—she says it's as though he's repulsed by her. I've seen him a few times, and he's been normal to me. I don't really know what to make of it. The truth is, I really don't see that much of him. Melinda knows him better than I do. It hurts to know that my dad and I aren't very close. Especially because he means so much to me. But at the same time, it's like we're living in two different worlds. We were never as close as I wanted us to be when I was growing up, but we did start to see each other more in my teenage years. What I really came to appreciate was his fresh perspective on things. He made it easy to talk to him about stuff. Well, as long as it wasn't something like a female problem, anyway. He's not the greatest dad in the world, he'll hold his hand up there. But he's my dad, and even though he missed some of the most important years of my life, he came back into it, and I respect him for that. I couldn't imagine getting married without him. Guh, that's another stress that I really can't handle at the moment. Courtney couldn't get over how naïve I was about everything that needs to be done. And I love my fiancé, ladies. But really, he hasn't been much help. Of course, my mother reminded me that men usually aren't very helpful when it comes to the wedding. Maybe that's the problem. I love the idea of being queen for a day. And I really love the way that I look in the dress. It's getting into the thing that is another matter entirely. I can't believe how hard it is to diet! I've never really gone this route before. I don't even think that I weigh very much, but that hourglass waistline on my dress seems to disagree. I swear, if I gain one more pound, I'm going to have to start coating the inside of that thing with Vaseline! I'd at least ask Darren if guys go through this sort of things, but I dress him most of the time anyway, so I already know the answer. Tell me that's fair! Why do guys always get away with murder when it comes to fashion! It's like we girls always have to set the standard. And guys wonder why girls are going after those metrosexuals they see on television. Or maybe I'm just looking for something to complain about. It does help me take my mind off of, well, everything. And that's definitely a load off. I have a tendency to dwell on things, both good and bad. Not to mention a penchant for meddling in the affairs of others. Boys, is it just me, or am I running myself down lately? I've really got to learn not to beat myself up, there's plenty of people out there willing to do that for me. But it's a bad habit that I've gotten into. One of my many idiosyncricies that I've long since integrated into myself. And, of course, that means that everyone else has to put up with them. I wonder if that's what they mean when they talk about loving someone "warts and all." I'd say that makes me a prime example, but hey, who among us has so much confidence that they don't need some kind of assurance? When it comes right down to it, we all want to be loved unconditionally. I can't see why anyone wouldn't want that. Being human is all about reassurance. We're rather fragile like that. I think that's why I've stuck with Courtney all these years. She's always expressed that fragility with a certain amount of grace and elegance. Well, okay, maybe not always. There was the Camp Caprice incident. And the snowstorm incident. And the Hope Rogers incident. But hey, we were only kids, so I've cut her some slack. It may sound hard to believe, but I had my run-ins with immaturity myself back then. Still do, actually. But let's face it, this column wouldn't be nearly as much fun otherwise. And who wants that? I could tell you all some bold-faced lies in the name of entertainment, but I grew up with Carl in the house, so in my case, truth is definitely stranger than fiction. But I may embellish from time to time anyway. For my sake, I mean. There are some things a girl just doesn't talk about!_

_Wow, I can't believe how long I've been rambling. I'm actually getting a warning message that this column is about to become too big for the allocated space! You know, any other day, I would wade through this thing and trim the fat, as it were. But I'm just not up to it today. Warts and all indeed! Anyway, I'd just like to thank you all for letting me treat this page like a confession booth this week. I needed it. Everyone's always been there for me when I really need them. Thank you all for that. Until next week, I'm eternally yours. Ginger Foutley._

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"I'm sorry, Arnold." Nadine placed a hand on his shoulder after he had finished his story. "I wish that there was something I could say, something that would make things better for you."

"There isn't anything." Arnold shook his head. "This is just what happens in life, I guess. People. . .we do terrible things to each other, you know? Rip each other's guts out. You know, it's really kind of funny, when you think about it."

"How's that?"

"People sit around, watching news on the TV sets, and they condemn wars and terrorism and stuff like that. And okay, sure. I mean, who is really for war? Even when it's necessary, it's not like it's a good thing. And we get to see all these stories, about suffering, and radical groups and suicide bombers who think that courage is about blowing up a school bus or something."

"I never knew you to be political." Nadine quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm not, that's the point. People like you and me, we sit and see all that, and we like to think we're so damned superior, we're so civilized. But we're not, really. We rip each other apart. Maybe we don't use guns and bombs or do it all under some banner of principle, what we're great at savaging each other. I always used to be able to pride myself on being able to put up with Helga when we were kids. I didn't like it, but I tried never to let myself sink to her level, and most of the time, I did okay. Because the things she said didn't really matter. I didn't even think she believed them. But the second she meant something to me, and then she did something to hurt me—I hurt her right back. The sad, inconvenient truth is that I'm not nearly as good a person as I'd like to be."

"Nobody expects you to be perfect, Arnold. Not even your women. I like to think that I'm not only speaking for myself on that one."

"I hope you aren't either, Nadine. But I can't help wanting to live up to that."

"Believe in yourself, Arnold. And if you still love Helga, believe in her, too. Because she is tied to you, and even she can't let something like that go. Not forever."

"You're really pulling for the two of us, aren't you?" Arnold smirked.

"I call 'em like I see 'em." She grinned.

"Thanks Nadine."

"No, Arnold. Thank you."

"For what?"

"I don't know yet. I just—I feel like I owe you, Arnold. For being yourself. And for being my guy way back when. I like to think that because of you, I found the strength to go on. Even if it wasn't with you."

"You're welcome, Nadine. You're always welcome."

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"Call him." Lor pressed, watching her roommates dejected presence on the couch. To her eyes, Helga looked like death warmed over. She wouldn't respond, wouldn't even acknowledge Lor's presence.

"Oh, come on, Helga. You can knock off the blonde badass routine. You're easily as screwed up as I am. The difference between you and me is that you're just trying to deny it. Well here's a little newsflash for you, Pataki. Sitting around and feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to help. There's only two solutions when you have it this bad for a guy. Call him, or sever all ties completely. And there's no way you're about to do the second one." Lor chuckled. Helga gave Lor a look that told her what to do with herself, but then refrained from speaking. "Yeah, yeah." Lor snickered. "I know, I know. You don't like it when I've got your number, do you? But we smell our own, Helga. I know all about your kind, I know what you're going through. I know what it's like to love someone so much and not be able to make it work. I actually admire you a little. I mostly compensate for my problems by sedating yourself. You never dull your own pain. If anything, I'd say that you probably thrive on it. Good for you. But stop doing this to yourself. Call him." Lor took the portable phone that was in her hand and thrust it towards Helga. The angry blonde did not reach for it. Finally, Lor succumbed, and tossed it next to her roommate. "I'll leave that, just in case you maybe get over yourself. Can't say I didn't try." Lor shook her head, mumbling to herself before walking into another room. Even people with as good a track record as her couldn't win them all."

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Courtney Gripling lay in her bed, counting her blessings on her fingers. In spite of her family's many losses, she had been able to carve something out of their despair to keep them going. She had her company, however small and unimpressive that it was. And while she could not deny that she was hemorrhaging money and counted on the support of people like the Lloyd family to bail her out, she had to be thankful that she had people she could depend on, not just monetarily speaking, but in other areas as well.

She had Ginger. Kind, dependable Ginger who didn't abandon her no matter what disaster reared it's ugly head. And she had her column, her glorious writing that people ate up for reasons Courtney couldn't even begin to comprehend. It was nice, sure. And it made a point. But the girl seemed to be in something of a demand. Twice in the past two years, Courtney had crept up the syndication price for carrying newspapers, and she could count on one hand the number who had opted out of it. Indeed, she seemed to pick up a few more subscribers every month, finally settling in somewhere around the fifteen hundred mark, give or take a few. But now, the real test was coming. Courtney giggled to herself as she thought of what would take place the next day, the arrangements and finalization of a contract for Ginger to put out her first book. And to think, she would even get to be in it! _Season of Caprice_ had all the makings of a hit with the young and old alike, of that Courtney had no doubt. It had everything. Excitement, adventure, suspense, romance—and it was all real! Well, most of it anyway. She would probably have to convince Ginger to embellish a little on her behalf, she certainly wanted to save face. She certainly couldn't publish a book that made her look bad. She was a Gripling, for goodness sake! And that name still meant something to her, even if the rest of the world had long since abandoned it. More importantly, the potential sales from this book just might earn enough to pay off some of the worst bills she had and contribute to making her publishing house more financially solvent. Thanks to Rhonda, she still had enough money to keep the doors open for the rest of the quarter. The rest. . .would have to fall into place. But things would. They always did, somehow. She giggled again as she fluffed her pillow, then lowered her beauty mask over her face for sleep. Tomorrow would be another day, but Courtney was already looking to the many morrows after.

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Helga sat on the edge of the untidy sofa that she and Lor kept, holding her knees to her chest and trying to hide her face between them. There was a terrible pain in her stomach, making her feel nauseous beyond belief. Her face felt raw from the fresh tears that she had stirred up. But it was more than just sorry and pain that were keeping her company. She was weary. Helga mumbled to herself, making a gentle rocking motion in a vain attempt to comfort her aching heart. Her final resort was to do something she was sure she would end up regretting later. But all that mattered to her now was the chance to hear the sound of his voice, a caressing of her tortured soul. Hands shaking, she reached out for the phone, dialing the numbers one at a time, breathing in-between each one. She loathed herself for this weakness, know this could only lead to a transference of her pain onto him. Provided, of course, that Arnold would even talk with her.

"Hello?" A weak yet unmistakable voice greeted her, eliciting a sniffle out of Helga as her breath caught.

"Arnold." She managed to let out after several seconds.

"Helga?"

"I-"

"You don't have to say anything, Helga."

"Yes, I do, Arnold. I have to say so much."

"Then we'll talk. Just come home, Helga. Please. Even if you don't stay. But don't leave things like this between us."

"I'm sorry, Arnold."

"You don't have to be sorry. I'm the one who wasn't sensitive to your needs."

"But I'm the one who should know better. For both of us." Helga pressed on. "I'm the one whose been waiting for you my whole long, lonely life. I know you better than you know yourself, don't stand there and pretend that I don't."

"That's something I admire about you, Helga. You spent so long waiting for me, and. . . that's why I'm able to trust you, even after everything that's happened."

"Don't." Helga whispered, shaking her head.

"Don't what?"

"Don't start that on me. The nice guy routine. You don't know what that does to me. Ever since I was a stupid kid."

"You weren't stupid, Helga. A bit rough-edged and short-tempered, maybe even cruel. But brilliant. Do you know what I remember most about you, Helga?"

"My unerring ability to torment you mercilessly?"

"Well, yeah, you did. But that isn't what I meant. I was thinking of the way you always carried yourself. You were always, well, you. About five weeks ago, I was having coffee and pie at Big Al's café with Gerald. He game me something that Phoebe unearthed while she was packing for college. But I decided not to show it to you because I thought that you might get upset."

"That depends. What is it?"

"A copy of Vague magazine. Circa 1997. Someone got a great shot of you sticking your tongue out."

"You're a real bastard, Arnold." Helga yelled.

"That's no way to talk to someone who loves you."

"Bite me, Hair Boy. Do you even know what I'm going through right now?"

"That's my point, Helga. You never let anyone know anything about you. You were only nine years old, and you fobbed off questions like your favorite color and food. The interview in this magazine is worthless! It doesn't tell the world a thing about yourself!"

"Yeah, that's what I was going for. What's your point?"

"What's my point? Helga, we grew up together, and I feel like I hardly learned anything about you until after we were married."

"Oh, boo-hoo for you, Football Head! You had plenty of time to get to know me these past few months. I've poured my heart out to you, but you were too busy feeling violated and repulsed by me to care much!"

"That's not fair, Helga. You know damn well what you put me through." Arnold could feel himself growing frustrated.

"Oh, please, like you had it so bad. Ignore the girl whose spent her entire life in quiet worship of you."

"Oh come on, Helga, that isn't my fault."

"All I've ever done is love you. And I'll probably never be able to stop. It's just who I am. But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that it would be so hard to live with you. I spent so many fantasies on what it would be like to be married to you, and every last one of them was brilliant. Because no matter what the scenario I dreamed up, it never changed the fact that you were the boy. You were the only one I could ever share my hopes and dreams and fears with. You were the one who would always be there, just because you're Arnold. Like you always have been."

"It wasn't all bad, Helga. What about that last night?"

"It could've been a lot nicer." Helga scowled.

"Come home and it will be." Arnold offered.

"I can't, Arnold. I've just been through too much. Do you even know what it took for me to call you? How am I ever supposed to get over you?"

"Do you really want to, Helga? Because I don't want to get over you."

"Since when did you turn into the selfish type?" Helga asked. "Arnold, the whole reason I called. . .was to tell you that it's time for us to let go."

"No." Arnold flatly refused. No hint of passion colored his remark, it wasn't even a desperate sound. Helga, however, was no so quiet.

"I just can't do this anymore, Arnold! I'm drowning here! Fifteen years of unrequited madness and you sit there and expect me to get over it!" She cried. "And you weren't there when I needed you the most! You pushed me away when I needed you!"

"What was I supposed to do? Lie there and be used? You told me that you had to leave, that you needed to find yourself. How is that fair to me?"

"Did it even occur to you to try and stop me?" Helga asked. "You just let me walk out, knowing what I am, what I say and do! You were supposed to show me how much you care, how much I mean to you! You're supposed to encourage me!"

"What, was this supposed to be some sort of test!" Arnold accused her.

"No, I-"

"Encourage you to leave me like this?" Arnold cut her off. "Alone and confused and questioning everything that our twisted relationship stands for? I thought we were connected, Helga. I know I wasn't very nice to you at first. To be honest, I was so angry that I just. . .never mind, it's not important anymore. We are."

An uneasy silence passed before Helga responded. "Do you have any idea how if felt for you to turn me down like that? Can you even understand just how much you've meant to me for all these years? How hopelessly in love I've been with you since the moment we first met? And I know, I've always had a strange way of showing it, never giving you a moment's peace for most of our childhood. You don't have to remind me. I had my reasons. Because love or no, I truly hated you too. I hated how weak you made me, how weak you still make me. I hated how I could never be myself around you, because you'd turn my knees into jelly. I only knew how to swoon or bluster. How many times I've found excuses to berate you because I was afraid you might learn the truth. I feared for so long that you would. Because I did always love you. I hated the weakness, but loved that you were able to make me feel alive. You brought color to my black and white world. Because of you, I always felt alive. No matter how wretched I became, I always knew that somehow, I would prevail. I would survive, I can always survive, as long as I can love. Because if I can still love, then I'm still human. But now, for the first time, I'm questioning my love for you. I don't know if it can be the same anymore." Helga choked, forcing herself to keep the sob out of her voice.

"Helga," Arnold said her name softly, trying to soothe her. "Everything will be all right-"

"No it won't!" Helga howled. "Don't you understand! It's gone, it's gone! You stupid Football Head, it's gone!"

"What's gone?"

"I don't love you unconditionally anymore! You took that away from me! When I think about you now, all I can feel is hurt! I used to feel. . .alive whenever I though of you. Now it's gone."

"Helga, listen to me closely. No matter what you may feel right now, you need to know one thing. I love you, Helga Short. Even if you don't love me anymore, I love you." She still did not respond, allowing nearly half a minute to pass by. "Helga?" Arnold prompted at length.

"I told you, I gave you back the name." Helga sniffed. "I'm a _Pataki_ again." The name passed her lips with no uncertain amount of disdain.

"You can call yourself whatever you want, Helga. But I'm always going to think of you as my wife. Right up until the moment that you marry someone else."

"You're crazy, Football Head." Helga shook her head back and forth, tears falling for her eyes. "That's all there is to it. You're living in this fantasy world."

"I can't help it. I love you, Helga."

"Stop it! Just stop saying that! I can't, Arnold. I just can't!"

"Helga. . ."

"Don't look for me anymore. It's better for both of us."

"Please don't hang up! I don't ever want to lose you again, Helga. You mean something to me, everything to me. We can do things your way. But don't shut me out of your life! Enough people have you out of theirs!" Finally, he seemed to be getting through to her.

"I want to, Arnold. But please. . .try to forget me." Helga cried into the phone.

"Oh, he'll try all right. But he probably never will." An all-too-familiar voice sounded.

Arnold drew in a sharp breath, realizing what was happening. "Rhonda. . ." He said her name in disbelief.

"You're good, Pataki, I'll give you that. I don't know what you did to him, but he certainly won't seem to let go of you." Rhonda expressed.

A bitter kind of chuckle emanated from Helga. "But of course. I should've known. Rhonda. Wellington. Lloyd. I'm disappointed in myself, I really should've known that you would be there."

"Helga. . ." Arnold tried to intercede, but he was completely ignored by his estranged wife.

"So tell me, Rhonda. Did you fuck him yet?" Helga asked.

"Much to my disappointment, no." Rhonda said haughtily. "But I can assure you, it's not for lack of trying."

"Well, keep at it, Princess. He'll cave eventually. If he almost did it with me, you should have no trouble at all."

"Come on, Helga!" Arnold interjected. "It's not like that with Rhonda!"

"Oh please, Arnold." Helga clucked her tongue. "You don't have to justify yourself to me. The honeymoon is over, and in a few hours, so is the marriage. Do as you please." She scoffed.

"What would please me would be you're coming home so we could work things out." Arnold pleaded.

Helga laughed sinisterly at him. "Oh no. You seem to misunderstand the situation here. You don't get to tell me what to do. _Ever_ again. And Rhonda? You will tell me all about it, won't you? I think that I at least deserve that."

"Well," Rhonda smiled, "I'm not normally one to kiss and tell, but since you have been such a formidable opponent, I think that can be arranged."

"Thank you. But do try not to do anything I wouldn't do."

"I don't know, Pataki. What wouldn't you do?" Rhonda asked.

"Good point. Knock yourself out then. Maybe I'll check up with you two in a few days, see how things are going."

"You can't be serious!" Arnold protested, unwilling to believe what his estranged wife was actually suggesting.

"I can be anything I want, Arnoldo. I stayed in school. Ta-ta, Football Head. Oh yeah, do me a favor. Give it to her once for me, hmm? It's more than you ever did for me." Helga went for the jugular, twisting the knife by hanging up before he could respond. The sound of the dial tone in Arnold's ear painted the picture of a flatlined patient in his mind, and he had a suspicion that the patent was his relationship with Helga.

Arnold dropped the phone from his hand, an expression of disbelief settling over him. Nadine looked at him warily, instinctively wanting to go to him but knowing that the touch of another woman might not be the best thing for him at the moment. "Arnold?" Nadine asked tentatively. "I-I'm sorry. From what I heard on your end of the conversation, that didn't quite go the way you had hoped. Do you. . .need me?"

Arnold ignored her offer completely. "Where's Rhonda?" He asked darkly.

"I'm not sure. I think she's upstairs. Is everything all right?"

"If you hear any yelling--" Arnold stopped, searching for the right words. "Maybe you shouldn't leave us alone up there for too long."

"Please don't hurt her, Arnold."

"Come on, Nadine. You know I would never hit a girl."

"That isn't what I meant." Nadine shook her head.

"Right now, I can't make any promises." Arnold said quietly, starting up the staircase. Nadine watched him go, clutching fistfuls of her dress in worry as she did.

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Rhonda Lloyd was sitting on what had once been Helga's bed, the contents of her purse spilled out on her nightstand. She continuously rearranged the items, as though she could find the optical configuration for organizing the usual chaos her pocketbook was so prone to. It was difficult indeed for her to miss the angry footsteps approaching her from behind, but she ignored them anyway.

"You selfish little bitch." Arnold accused her flatly, struggling to keep himself under control.

Rhonda turned towards him, looking up for only a moment. "This really isn't the time." She said dismissively, returning to the materials on the nightstand.

"Too bad for you, Rhonda. I'm not letting you off for this one. Who the hell do you think you are, interrupting our conversation like that?"

The remark seemed to strike a nerve with the brunette, and she rose from the bed, turning on him with a look of fire on her eyes. "Who do I think I am? Who the hell do you think you are? You want to talk to your wife, fine. That's your right, I would never stop you from doing that. But where the fuck do you get off, saying those kinds of things behind my back! _I_ am the one who should be your wife! _I_ am the one who has been there for you for the past several years of your life! I am your woman, your lover, your rock, your shield, and you will not treat me the way you just did!"

The sound of Rhonda's hand slapping Arnold's cheek echoed throughout the bedroom, practically wringing in her ears. Her hand ached from the force of the impact, but she refused to flinch, choosing instead to mask the pain. Arnold had staggered backwards as a result of her hitting him, but he managed to regain his balance. The shock of Rhonda's action did not seem to faze her for more than a moment, and she pressed her verbal attack anew with little fanfare. "Maybe it didn't cross your mind while you were pining for some screwed-up freak of nature who forced you into some marriage you never asked for! You left each other in tatters, while our breakup was completely voluntary and we even stayed friends. Now that I'm here for you once again, offering myself to you completely, willing to forsake my entire heritage just so I can be with you, to lift you up, you instead treat me like I'm some kind of whore, use me to feel better about yourself when all the time all you really want is her! Do you even have any idea what it means to really love someone, Arnold? Because there was a time when I used to believe in you, believe that you loved me. I used to believe that there was something magical between us. The way you reached out to me, made me so much more than I would've been. And now you come up here all indignant, angry with me like I've betrayed you somehow? You're the one who betrayed me, betrayed my love. And I'm not going to let you get away with it, Arnold. I will not sit back and allow you to destroy everything we are."

"It's my life, Rhonda."

"You lost that privilege the moment you told me you love me. It's _our_ life, Arnold. And we make decisions together. And if you ever treat me like that again, so help me I'll. . .I don't even know what I'll do."

"You know that Helga needs me."

"No, she wants you. There's big difference. What Helga needs is to find out who she is. To find a way that she can live with herself, and live with you inside her. And only then will you ever be able to help her."

"And to think, all this time, I thought you hated Helga." Arnold spat.

"No, I don't. Truth be told, I'm really not very fond of her at the moment, because she keeps managing to make you bleed, to break your heart."

"I'll manage."

"But I won't!" Rhonda cried, pounding his chests weakly with her fists. "You swore to me that no matter what happens, a piece of your heart would always belong to me. And I don't want it broken, Arnold. I want you whole!"

"Rhonda, I can't just-"

"You may not love yourself, but I'll do it for you if I have to. I will not allow you to destroy yourself like this. I love you, Arnold. Maybe you don't give a damn about that, but I do. I love you. Unconditionally. Because of who you are. Or at least, who you used to be. And I will not forsake that." She sniffed, practically collapsing against him. "But I am not your call girl." She sobbed, finally breaking down into a mess of tears, choking sobs, and a feeling of humiliation. And for the first time since Helga had left him, he felt like the villain instead of the victim.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

_Author's Notes_

Welcome to the one-year anniversary edition of Instant Gratification. It's been a long haul to come this far, and it took longer to get here than I would've liked. Technically speaking, the anniversary was about three weeks ago, but who's counting? Anyhow, I thought it was important to bring the fans something special this time out, so I finally decided to shed light on the great/mystery of Arnold and Helga and let you all know why they broke up. I've been holding onto that footage for a long time, but now I finally feel that the time has come to release it.

Considering all that I've put into this chapter, I now, of course, have to face the fact that the story may never be the same again. But perhaps it's important that I allow it to evolve, that things keep moving. Better than allowing things to stagnate or burn out. For a long time now, this has been the little story that could. It continues to remain a constant source of amazement to me just how big of a following it has found. It continues to grow its fanbase seemingly with every update. It took home a total of five awards at the ceremony Jarel Kortan put together. And most importantly, it has invaded so many facets of my life that I've lost track.

But then there's the importance of all of you. The fans. The people who make all of this worthwhile. The great ones who manage to keep me going, who feed me an unending stream of support, even through the crises that pop up in my life. I'm eternally grateful for all the patience that you have showered upon me while I've been trying to keep my life organized. I would also like everyone to know that things are looking up. My father's surgery went very well and he's already home, than you all for your concern. I'm on the cusp of getting my schedule moved at work to the time I signed up for, and this will make it easier for me to work on the story and, hopefully, get it updated more often. I'm really sorry that I've been gone for so long. But at the same time, I hope that I've managed to make everyone's holiday weekend by unleashing a surprise update on you all. I worked hard on this one, not just with the content, but to make sure that it would be a nice, big update worthy of your time. After being gone for so long, I figured that you all deserved an update big enough to make up for it. If I have my druthers, I won't have to resort to small ones again, but real life is rarely so accommodating. For now, I think I'll just continue to give it my best effort and work towards getting this story updated on a semi-regular basis again.

For my extra-special fans who like to broaden their horizons, rest assured that I haven't forgotten about _Gravity_, either. I'm going to get to work on an update for that this week, and it shouldn't take too long to get going. Believe me, writing a much tighter story is unique experience, and it certainly is easier to update! It's not easy to split my attentions, but I do it all for you guys. Writing may be therapeutic, but I like to close each file, knowing that I've managed to make the good readers out there on FFN feel something. I hope that I've managed to pull that off again with this update.

I look forward to bringing you all a new update soon. Until then, please continue to send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

7/3/06

3:09AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	33. What You Leave Behind

What You Leave Behind

Arnold sat down on the bed next to Rhonda, neither teen looking at the other. He didn't know where to start, what he could possibly say to her that would make things right between them. She was right. She had his number, and called him on it. He had no right to lean on her as much as he had, knowing all the while in his heart that Rhonda would ultimately play second fiddle to her competition.

Rhonda, at the same time, felt as though her heart was being cut into pieces by the only boy she had ever loved. More than that. Arnold had done more than open her heart, he had saved her from herself, from her life. While growing up, she had never really believed in the world outside of the privileged society she had been raised in. She went to public schools, but she always carried herself above the masses. She had even gone through that brief stint in fourth grade where her family was poor. And who had rescued her from her wallow of self-pity? Arnold. It wouldn't be until years later when both were vulnerable enough to find each other and build a little life. He was the change that she wanted to be, opening doors and windows in her life so she could broaden her horizons and breathe fresh air. Arnold made her a better person, and she loved him for it—loved the person she could be when he was standing next to her. And she had tried so hard to give him everything. He had opened himself up to her, his fears of abandonment from losing his parents, his stress from always having to be the mature one in the boarding house, his worry that he could never live up to the stock whence he came. But she was there to encourage him, to reassure him, but most importantly, to love him just for who he was. To help him keep believing in a better world. To help him be free. She loved him, there was nothing more to say. And she was willing to give him everything. Was that still not enough for him?

"I love you." She decided to be the first to break the silence. "I love you, I care for you, I nurture you—I've tried to be everything you could ever want. It's because of you that I'm worth something. You were the one who showed me what life can really be, that it's worth living, instead of watching it float by from a chair on some Caribbean beach. It was because of you that I wanted to grow, that I wanted to make something of myself. I don't want to be some trophy wife in a gilded cage. I want a real life. With people in it who mean something because of what they've done, not what family they were born to. I want to work for my happiness, and see everything that the world has to offer. You brought those qualities out in me. Before we were together. . .God, Arnold, I didn't even know what love was before I met you. You always said such beautiful things to me. What am I supposed to think here? What am I supposed to do? Do you want me to just disappear?"

"No." Arnold took her hand in his, a touch she began to shy away from, but he grasped her more firmly. "No, Rhonda. I don't want that. I would never want that. Ever."

"Then what is it about her that you can't stay away from, Arnold? What can she give you that I can't?"

Arnold sighed, trying to put his conflict into words for her. "I. . .I don't know how to explain it, Rhonda. It's different. . .complicated. . .I thought that you were the one who said I should explore my feelings."

"Yes, I did. I'm not angry with you for exploring them. I'm angry because. . .I never truly believed that I could lose you, Arnold. I refused to believe that. Even when I broke up with you. . .look, I know what I did to you back then. But I told you the truth, Arnold. Even when I broke up with you, it wasn't' because I wanted someone else. I listened to my parents, because they're all I've ever had aside from you and Nadine. And I lost Nadine years ago. I was stupid, all right, I admit that. I chose my parents over you because I've know them all my lives. I wasn't strong enough to stand up to them, I wasn't ready to lose them! But I'm ready now. Can't you see that? I made my choice, Arnold. And my choice is to spend the rest of my life with you. This wasn't an easy choice to make. I had to think about everything I was giving up, everything I could never have. But I chose you because I realized that I could live without everything else. None of it was life, it was just stuff—money, privileges, power, niceties. None of it really matters at all. It never has. It never will. We are what's important. Did you ever think when we were kids that you would hear me say something like this? It's not an accident, Arnold. _You _did that. You made me what I am, and I love you for it. I've always been true to you, even when I broke up with you."

"What about Gerald?" Arnold asked, sending her a question he knew she couldn't be ready for.

"Gerald?! Wh-what about him?

"Don't play dumb with me, Rhonda. I know the two of you were together after we had broken up. It was only fitting, anyway."

"Don't meddle in something you can't understand, Arnold. What happened between Gerald and me is different. And, I might add, has no bearing at all on the subject of us."

"You just said that you've always been true to me!"

"And I have! For God's sake, Arnold, what do you really think happened with Gerald?"

"You didn't sleep with him?!"

"_Sleep _with him?!" Rhonda yelled in shock, unable to believe what she was hearing. "I never slept with your best friend, Arnold. How can you say something so deplorable about me?!" She wept, covering her face with her hands. "Did you even bother to ask him about us, or do you just listen to rumors on the street and throw them back in my face like I'm. . .like I'm some kind of whore?!"

"You're not a whore, Rhonda, I-"

"Then stop treating me like one!" She shrieked, standing up. "Are you trying to get rid of me, is that it? Who the hell do you think you are, accusing me of having sex with your best friend?!" She gripped her purse tightly, ready to beat him with it, but realizing that it wouldn't do any good. "If you had any decency in you. . ." She choked, ashamed at herself for crying like a little girl but not knowing what else she could do with her emotions. "If you had any of your goodness left, you would know that I never had sex with Gerald. That I would never want him to touch me the way you do. And that the only reason I was dating Gerald because it as the closest thing I could have to you at the time. But I guess you don't really know that anymore. You don't know anything, do you? You're just trying to find a way to make yourself feel better about dumping me so you can run off with her."

"That's not true!" Arnold interrupted.

"Bullshit!" Rhonda roared, slamming her purse into the ground. "Since the moment I came here today, I've been trying to help you in every way I could, I've tried to make you forget, to lift you out of your pain and misery. And every step of the way you've fed me nothing but bullshit, knowing goddamn well what you really want is to find a way back to Helga so she can do God knows what else to your tattered heart!" She panted, out of breath, but still struggling towards the door, knowing that she had to get out before she did something truly terrible, said something she could never take back."

"Rhonda. . ."

"Save your breath." She spat, unable to derail herself from her bitterness. "I wanted to build a life with you, but you're going to deny me, aren't you?" She took her hand back from him, turning away from his gaze. "I know you love her Arnold. Even though she's done nothing but hurt you since the moment you met. It's really very funny, isn't it? She even tried to save you, in her own way. She knew she was bad for you, that she would end up destroying you. She ran away from you, Arnold, for fear of what would happen. I don't think even I realized that until now. She loved you. She wanted you to be free. She loved you so much that she gave you up. She wanted you to be happy, just like me. It's funny how that in spite of everything else, you're the one who doesn't want to be happy." She locked eyes with her beloved for a moment, but he said nothing in his defense. Still she waited, hoping that he would have something to say to her, some chance of redemption. But silence ruled the day, and the only response she got was when Arnold shut his eyes to avoid her penetrating stare. "I'm going now." Rhonda said simply, picking up her purse. "I've tried with you, Arnold, I really have. I really wish there was some way I could make things better for you, but you've made your choice. You know where to find me if you change your mind. I love you, Arnold. I am the person that I am today because of you. I haven't forgotten the promises we made to always be together, to be here for each other, to build a _life. _That still means something to me. But maybe you have to go through this before you know what matters to you. I do wish you happiness. Good luck, Arnold, with whatever you choose." She stepped out of the room then, quickly turning her back so he wouldn't see her cry. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd ran down the stairs and out the front door of Arnold's apartment, past the eyes of a bewildered blonde who had heard sounds of yelling and tears upstairs but only choice bits of the conversation.

"Rhonda?" Nadine called after her friend, but the raven-haired girl was already down the front steps and running down the sidewalk. Unsure how to feel, Nadine screwed her eyes shut and clapped her hands together, sending a prayer to the heavens for her friend, waiting to be received by a God whom she feared either didn't exist and thus wouldn't hear her, or who she had ignored for too long for him to want to answer. She wanted to go to Arnold, to at least get him downstairs and away from the lethargy and self-pity that the solace of one's bedroom could often provide. Yet she found that she lacked the basic strength. What could she possibly say to comfort him? Her own demons were of a decidedly different nature. Worse, she had abandoned him years ago. She had shut him out like all the others, not wanting them to know the truth of her plight. She had moved on without him, without anyone. Only now, too late, she had realized the folly of her ways. Yes, she had overcome her ordeal. Truthfully, she wasn't even angry anymore that she had been raped, that a part of her childhood had been taken from her. That didn't seem to matter anymore, but a strong anger over her inability to let anyone else in had replaced it. Why hadn't she let Arnold be there for her? Why had she ignored him, turned a blind ear to his cries? They were young and in love, a magical kind of high school love that only comes once or twice. He was the first boy who had truly loved her, and she had forever tainted her first love by keeping him out of her life when she needed him most.

She was more than relieved when she eventually heard the sounds of tepid footfalls coming down the stairs; Arnold had unknowingly relieved a great burden from her. "Arnold?" She asked cautiously as she saw him appear. She was careful not to pry, not to ask about what happened or to approach him too much. She knew that whatever had happened between him and Rhonda in that room upstairs, it couldn't have been very pleasant.

"You're still here." Was the only thing that Arnold said. "You didn't leave me."

"No." Nadine shook her head. "I did that once before, remember."

"That was a long time ago." Arnold said flatly.

"And I'm sorry for it. But I'm here for you now."

"You shouldn't be here, Nadine." Arnold sighed. "It's only a matter of time before I hurt you like I did Helga and Rhonda."

"That's a chance that I'm willing to take." She said openly, slowly standing up and approaching him. "Let me do something for you. Would you like something to drink?"

"I can fetch it myself. My heart's broken, not my legs."

"I know you can. But please, let me do this for you."

"You're a good woman, Nadine." Arnold sighed, allowing her to lead him to the couch, which he hesitantly sat down upon.

"I was once. I'm trying to be one again."

"Nadine. . .I know what we had was special, but I really don't think-"

"I don't want to be your girl, Arnold." The blonde interrupted. "That's not why I'm here. It's nice to visit what we once had, but. . .I think we're better off as friends now. I just want to be here for you, that's all. I wasn't there back in high school. Let me at least try to make that right."

"I. . .okay." Arnold reluctantly agreed, more afraid that Nadine would become another victim than anything else. "Why are you still here, Nadine? Everyone else has left me."

"Because I'm here for myself as much as I am for you. Besides, if I wasn't here, I really wouldn't have anywhere else to go but with Sid. And I promised that I would prove to both him and myself that I don't need him to function. I want to be with Sid, but. . .I think I understand why he wanted us to be apart for awhile. He doesn't want me to use him as a crutch, or to develop a misguided feeling of love towards him. And I don't want that either. I know that I feel something for Sid, but. . .I want it to be real, not just a projection of other feelings or something." Nadine walked into the adjacent kitchen and put a pot of water on to boil, continuing her conversation from the other room. "Love is too precious to make mistakes with."

"Tell me about it." Arnold leaned back, placing a hand over his eyes to hide his view of the world. Everything was coming apart badly. He'd driven both girls out of his life, and the only one that was left he knew he had to keep things platonic with for fear that he would completely destroy Nadine.

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, Arnold. It will all work out. These things have a way of doing that."

"I really don't think it will be that easy." Arnold told her. "What are you making?"

"Sometimes things don't seem easy because we make them more complicated than they have to be. And I'm making hot chocolate." She responded. It always works for me when I feel like my life is falling apart.

"When I get flustered, I cook." Nadine shrugged, rooting around in the various cupboards for a frying pan. "Of course, it doesn't hurt that I don't trust us to be alone on the ouch together in our current emotional states."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Arnold acknowledged, as he engaged in the process of sacking out on the couch. "So what do you think, Nadine? Honestly. I mean. . .am I making a mistake with Rhonda?"

Nadine took several moments to mull her answer over, banging a few things together to cover her hesitation. "I don't know, Arnold. You very well might be. But it's not exactly a decision I can make for you. Try asking yourself this—would you be happy spending the rest of your life with Rhonda?"

"Unquestionably." Arnold nodded. "I don't know, maybe that's what I'm afraid of."

"And what about Helga? What did it feel like to be with her? Was it better?"

"Not better. But not worse either. It's really hard to compare, they aren't alike at all. But both of them make me feel like I have a future. I know I can do plenty in life, that isn't it. It's the chance to become. . .I don't know, I'm not like other guys, I guess. The idea of getting married and starting a family really doesn't scare me. I mean, don't get me wrong Nadine, it's not like I want to get started right away, but I don't feel like if I get married and have kids that I might as well be dead. Does that make any sense?"

"Perfectly." Nadine said in a huff, not because she had feelings of disagreement, but out of exasperation for Arnold's empty kitchen. "Geez, Arnold, do you ever even go shopping?"

"Helga and I went once or twice, but I was used to leaving most of the dinners up to her, unless she told me we were eating out."

"You really need to learn to be more self-sufficient." Nadine told him as she seized a lone box of generic macaroni and cheese that was sitting next to a box of taco shells. Well, I suppose we'll have to try something simple. Do you have any tuna?"

"I don't know, probably. I really don't know much about Helga's kitchen system, but I think she used to keep one of the cupboards loaded with canned stuff. Check around."

"Right." Nadine rolled her eyes as she began opening some of the floor cupboards, finally hitting upon the mother lode Arnold had prophesied behind a door next to the refrigerator. "Ah, here we are! Oh, good, we can have a vegetable too. Peas alright?"

"Brilliant." Arnold told her. "You sure you don't need any help in there?"

"I'll be fine. Anyway, back to what you were saying before, I've never been afraid of settling down either. I think that's one of the reasons we were a good couple back in high school. We were. . .alike, I think."

"You know, believe it or not, Helga and I weren't so different either. Underneath it all, we did kind of make sense."

"She does bluster a lot." Nadine nodded. "But I'm not at all surprised to hear that beneath it all, she's a good woman. She has passion and drive. I admit that I never got the chance to talk to Helga very much, I wouldn't call us close or anything. But even so, I can't help liking her. I don't know, maybe it's just the fact that she felt you were the ideal man that I like her. She does know how to pick them, doesn't she?"

"If you say so, Nadine."

"Oh, I insist." She grinned, opening up the box of pasta and removing an envelope full of powdered cheese. She pulled out a worn chair from the kitchen table, sitting down and drumming her fingers idly. She ran her index finger down the length of the table, impressed to see that not very much dust had gathered. Helga must've been a good housekeeper. "So, you've decided to be with Helga?"

"I've decided that until I sit down and talk with Helga, I can't make a decision as important as who I want to spend my life with." Arnold sighed. "It's not like I can just keep Rhonda on ice in case Helga doesn't work out."

"She seemed pretty hurt when she left, you know."

"I know. She's afraid of losing me. Actually, I think she's afraid of losing me without understanding why. Maybe that makes two of us, because I'm not sure if I understand this either. Growing up, I always thought there was something strange between Helga and I. Not romantic, more like. . .I don't know, I just thought that things were meant to be different between us. That we weren't supposed to be fighting the way we were. That's why I tried so hard. I just wanted us to be friends. But we never really were. And eventually, we stopped interacting. Maybe I deserve this. Somewhere in the course of puberty, I managed to forget about her."

"Maybe she wanted to be forgotten." Nadine got up and stood in the doorway that separated the living and dining area from the kitchen, watching Arnold's movements and expressions.

"Maybe." Arnold agreed. "But that shouldn't be an excuse."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You forgot Lila too, remember?"

"Now how could I have possibly gone around pining for Lila when I had a girl like you just waiting for me to ask her out?" He grinned at her.

"Excuse me?" Nadine asked in mock annoyance. "I wasn't just sitting around, waiting for you to ask me out."

"Of course not, you were scheming with Rhonda!"

"That's more like it!" Nadine laughed. "And it worked, too."

"Kind of ironic, isn't it? I ended up getting together with the same person who set us up."

"I guess I was the one put the idea in her head of what a great guy you were. Although there is one thing I've always wanted to ask you."

"What's that?"

"Why did you wait so long after I. . .after I shut you out."

"You mean, why didn't I put myself back 'on the market,' as it were?"

"Yes. I kept waiting for you to give up, but you were so persistent."

"I still held out hope that you would change, Nadine. I never knew what I did, or why you changed so much, I only knew. . .well, you were my girlfriend, and I cared about you a lot. I wasn't ready to just abandon you. Even after Rhonda and I got together, I still hope that you would come back. But you never did. So I let go."

"It was never about you, Arnold. It was just. . .something terrible that happened to me that I had to deal with in my own way. That I didn't want you to be a part of. I just wanted to be alone. For a long time, that was all I really wanted. Now I'm making up for lost time." She grinned.

"It's good to have you back, Nadine. The world is a better place with you."

"I could say the same thing about you, Arnold." She smiled warmly, walking back into the kitchen to tend to their food. "I could say the same thing for you."

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

_Hello, Strangers!_ By Ginger Foutley

_Faking it. Admit it to yourself, we all do it. Whether we put on a false smile, or tell ourselves that we love our jobs, or agree to have lunch with our mother in law when we'd rather clean a public restroom with our tongues, we all do it. Why do you suppose that is? Society teaches us that we're supposed to be polite, that it's more acceptable to bite our tongues than to tell someone how we really feel. And there are times where that is probably the wiser choice. Talk to any psychiatrist, or even a social worker, and they'll tell you that it's never healthy to bottle things up inside, that we have to let them out. Ironic that society teaches us exactly the opposite, isn't it?_

_There are times when I feel as though I'm a stranger in my own home, my own life. Sometimes things just stop making sense. The world becomes a roller coaster, and I just want to get off. But I can't. I have lies to say, bills to pay, people who depend on me. And I'm aware of the fact that I've reached that age where everything just starts to. . .change. I've arrived at the point where the "experts" say I'm supposed to realize that after all is said and done, the world is actually a pretty crummy place and there isn't a heck of a lot I can do about it. It shouldn't be that way, but it is. And I'm not a cynical person. I do try to see the good in people, even those that irritate me beyond belief. And writing is supposed to be therapeutic. But I have my days where I just want to curl up into a ball because everyone wants a piece of me and there's only so much to go around. And then if feel guilty, and ashamed, because I know that my life is going more smoothly than a lot of other people I know. So what else am I supposed to think?_

_But I'm home again. I went a bit north, I went a bit south, I got violently ill, I did some real soul searching. . .and decided to write a book. I signed the contract yesterday, so now I can at least talk about it. And I think it's exactly what I need. I don't want to spoil the whole plot for you, but I've decided to do something really personal and write a novel about a major turning point in my life. A little something I like to call the Season of Caprice. This is the story of a summer I spent at summer camp. I had my best friends there, my camp friends there, and believe it or not, even Courtney! Sorry, you'll have to read the book to find out what happens, but this was a summer where I felt. . .I felt like I was really growing up, becoming a woman. Not so much physically, but. . .the way I felt about the people around me. Things changed for me that summer. And I wouldn't trade that experience for everything. So, are you hooked yet? Just give me time to write it. Sorry, you could be waiting a year or so for this one. These things take some time. And I still have to turn out columns every week. So I guess I'll finally have more of a "normal" work week, like the rest of the world. That might be just what I need, though. I've been having too many emotional bouts this past year, often over nothing. I suppose that's just the way I am, but I don't think it helps that, not counting wedding preparations, of course, I just don't have enough to do with myself. I've always wanted to do something big. It's not really an ego thing, I don't really care about becoming rich and famous. I just want to be able to feel good about myself. One day, when I'm an aging grandma, I need to be able to think back to my youth and know that I did some good in the world. That's what matters to me. I just want to make a difference._

_I wonder if I should start by trying to heal the rift between my parents. I know that Mom's moved on and remarried. They're happy together, and I don't want to change that. I like Dr. Dave. He's not my dad, but he never tried to be, either. He sat down and talked with me a few weeks after they were married, and he told me that he didn't want to be my new dad, he just wanted us to be like close friends. And I was so happy, because that's how I've come to think of him. He's really a great guy, and just between you and me, I have come to think of him as a male role model of sorts, even if he isn't my dad. But I still feel like there's that invisible wall between my real dad and my mom. I want them to be happy, too. Their time together is over, I know. It's not like I'm trying to get them back together romantically. But I'd like for us all to be able to sit around the fireplace together at Christmas like a family. I know it won't happen. It would just be too awkward for Jonas and Lois. I guess I just have these little idealistic thoughts in my head that I can't seem to get rid of. Too bad we don't live in an ideal world though. Far from it, that's the harsh reality. We manage to get by somehow, perhaps that's what's important. Me? Well, I'm getting by too. Sometimes, that's all there is to say._

_But getting by isn't always enough. We deserve better. We deserve to be happy. I just wish there was a simple way to make that happen. But there isn't. There's no easy way to get what you want out of life. You have to be willing to go out and get it. And I've been afraid to do that sometimes. I tend to run away from my problems, because it's easier than dealing with them. I know that it isn't the smart thing to do, but it's been a problem of mine since I was little. I'm not very confrontational, and I let stuff build and build until I start going crazy. I'm just lucky that I have someone who is willing to love me in spite of all that. And I hope that everyone reading this is able to find someone like that too. If you haven't already, that is. _

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Helga Pataki cried. It was a basic reaction that she couldn't control, something almost mechanical. The very thought that she had lost control of herself caused her to cry harder, but her tears were not interrupted by whimpers or sobs. She curled her knees up to her chest, wrapping herself into a ball, and wished that she would just disappear forever. She had been separated from any hope of happiness, she knew. And the thought left her almost beyond grief. She didn't know what to do, what to think, what she should say. Everything seemed surreal and fuzzy, as though the world itself had changed. And for her, it had. For the first time since she was three years old, she was living in a world without Arnold. Which meant she was living in a world without hope, without joy, without air. And she hated herself passionately. Because it was a choice she had made. She had decided to let herself be this way, she had chosen her path. And now she was paying the price for her stubborn attitude. And the price, she knew, was more than she could ever bear.

"Is this how you deal with _all _of your problems?" Lor asked her roommate. She stood adjacent to the doorway that lead off to the dining room, slightly leaning against the wall and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Leave me alone." Helga demanded. It was not a shout. She didn't even say the words with much conviction. She didn't have much fight in her at all, a weakness which Lor immediately picked up on."

"Come on, Helga. It's not that bad."

"Don't patronize me. You have no idea what we're even going through."

"Sure I do. Come on, you didn't really expect me not to eavesdrop, did you?"

Helga wrapped herself up tighter, the humiliation she felt being the icing on her cake of woe. "I hate myself. I hate my _life_." She groaned.

"We've been over this." Lor told her. "I hate your life too. And you don't hate yourself, don't be stupid."

"How do you know what I hate and what I don't?!" Helga spat at her, finally finding a little anger to direct to her roommate and adversary.

"If you truly hated yourself, you wouldn't care that you hurt him." Lor explained easily. "And you know that he loves you. You're just convinced that you don't deserve it. You'll latch onto any reason to keep you apart. You're convinced that this is what is supposed to happen—that you just fade into oblivion and let the love of your life be with that other girl. Well, too bad for you. Because I'm going to rip you off of that experience, whether you like it or not."

"I never asked for your help."

"I know. You're getting it anyway."

"I don't want you to meddle in my life."

"Mmm, guess you should've thought of that before you knocked on my doorstep then."

"I hate you." Helga told her, becoming agitated with the way Lor turned everything back around on her.

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

"No you aren't!"

"That's because I know that you don't really hate me." Lor exaggerated by waving her arm. "Are you always this melodramatic? I mean, yeah, okay, you have some serious issues to work on with your guy. But you like to pretend that the whole world is ending, when in reality, things really aren't as bad as you think. You just like the feeling that you have no hope. You just want to feel sorry for yourself. Tough. Because I'm not going to let you be that person. Like I said. As much as you're dying to spend the rest of your life with a broken heart and be a melodramatic martyr for what you've spent your entire life chasing, we're going to put you back together with the only man you've ever loved, and we're gonna rip you off of that experience. And we're going to cheat you out of that because _I've _already lived it, and _I_ know it isn't worth it, so I guess you'll just have to learn to live with being happy. It must be terrible."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Helga asked her, hiding her face.

"Because you remind me of me. Only totally screwed up." Lor smirked. "I guess I just think that you're worth saving. That's why I've been taking care of you."

"Taking care of me." Helga mocked her roommate. "You're just lonely."

"Maybe I am." Lor replied without hesitation. "But I also don't want to see other people make the same mistakes I did. Not when I have the ability to do something about it."

"I find it hard to believe you could possibly understand."

"Well I do. And maybe someday, if you're lucky, I'll tell you why."

"Hmpf." Helga looked up from the safety and comfort of her knees. "So tell me this, then. If you're so lonely, why don't you just go home?"

Lor sighed, leaning against the wall again, crossing her right arm under her chest. "Because if I do, I'll have to face my harsh reality. Accepting it is one thing. Staring it in the face and trying to be happy in spite of it is something else. So for the meantime, I'm here. Hiding my loneliness at the bar is working for me. It's not the most fulfilling life, kid." Lor sighed. "You're right about me. Maybe that's why I'm so intent on saving you. The guy I liked, he's getting married to my best friend last month. At least she was my best friend. Maybe she still is, I don't really know. We haven't spoken in years."

"She took him from you?" Helga cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Afraid it was the other way around. I got him on the rebound when they broke up for like half a year in high school. Didn't help my friendship with her, that's for sure. In fact, I'm pretty sure I killed it. And the funny thing is, I think I knew the whole time that we weren't meant to be. You know, I didn't even like him as more than a friend until. . .well, until it was way beyond appropriate for me to say anything. You know, when it comes to triangles, the one who hesitates loses. Don't hesitate, Helga. You have a really great guy who loves you for who you are. Don't give that up for anything. Ever. Because as long as you have someone willing to support you, to stand by you, to love you, then you have no reason to give up. And even though I've never met this guy, I know he's worth holding onto if he makes you feel that way. And if he's still waiting for you, then you have nothing to lose."

"You're so confident about this. Why?"

"Because I've been playing the game of love for a long time. Ever since my first crush back in like sixth grade. And I made the mistake of waiting too long. I know you've been waiting a lot longer. Do it now, Helga. Go for it. You can always come back here and feel miserable if it doesn't work out." Lor smirked.

"You should know," Helga began, "That if I end up getting hurt, I'm going to hold you personally responsible until the day I die."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Now shower up." Lor motioned towards the bathroom. "We've got work to do."

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Author's Notes

Apologies for the extra delay in this. I actually had it ready to post Monday morning, but for some reason, FFN wouldn't let me upload it. Typical. But the important thing is, it's here now. Er, we now resume the normal author's notes below.

It took me a long time to put this chapter together. There's no getting around that. Aside from a little KND one-shot I did about ten days ago, I haven't published anything in awhile. And I don't have much of an excuse, other than that for awhile, I just didn't feel like writing. No big tragedies in my life. Things are back to normal around here for me and I feel good. I've just been lethargic, putting down my pen and picking up the video game controller too often. I've been trying to write this chapter for two months now. I feel really bad that it's taken so long, because you've all been so good to me over the life of this story. And I don't mean to make you worry that it'll be left unfinished. I guess I just needed time. I really don't know why. But in short, I'm sorry that I've kept you all waiting for so long. I hope that you find this update worth it.

As you can no doubt tell, I've been working on advancing the story somewhat. I know what ending I'm going for, and I want to get us all there. But at the same time, I don't want to rush things either. I have some good ideas for some upcoming sequences. It's just become important to me to finish this story before undertaking my next epic. Plus, this thing has been ongoing now for almost a year and a half. I love IG as much as you do, but part of the making of a great fanfic is know that at some point, it has to end. So I guess you can now say I'm officially building to an ending. Don't be surprised if I end up taking another ten chapters to get there, though. But then, if you've been reading this fic for that long, it won't be any surprise to you at all.

I get the feeling that there's something more I'm supposed to say here, but to be honest, I really don't know what it is. I get that feeling sometimes. It always worries me, since they say the mind is the first thing to go, but hey, I've just been having one of those lives anyway, so no big deal there. I'm no stranger to it. Oh, wait, maybe I do remember! How is everyone liking how it's going? I know people have been waiting for me to do something with the whole Rhonda vs. Helga situation for awhile, so I'm doing it! I'm guessing that this is going to generate some buzz, now that there's finally some movement on that front. But then, I could be way off base there, so who knows. Like I said, I'm tired. Plus I just had some pumpkin pie washed down with Jack Daniels, so everything is a little fuzzy to me at the moment.

Anyway, I've been rambling on too long, so I'll cut this short. Let me just finish by saying that I'm so very thankful to everyone who is still reading this, that I miss the regular updates, but also that I've finally found a job where I can do them again. So let there be much rejoicing! Regular updates returning in like 2 weeks, I think. I know I've made promises before, but I think I can actually keep this one, and that's gotta be worth something!

And I love to hear from my readers, so feel free to get in touch any way you like. Until then, send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

11/27/06

3:11AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


	34. Parallel Paths

Parallel Paths

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"Do you think you can tell me now?" Nadine asked, sticking her head out from the kitchen.

"Tell you what?" Arnold asked. He remained on the couch, his eyes shut, a pillow draped over his face in an attempt to block outside stimulus as much as possible.

"What you plan on doing." Nadine said simply, returning to the stove to stir the pasta dish she was working on.

"I've given some thought to becoming a priest." The young male chuckled slightly to himself. "If there's one thing this whole ordeal has taught me, it's that maybe I'm better of staying away from girls, Nadine. Relationships with them do not end well for me."

"I suppose I can't say you're wrong about that." The girl sighed. "I'm sorry that I played a part in all of that."

"I'm not." Arnold shook his head. "With the way my life has gone, it's probably for the best. We probably would've ended up doing something terrible to each other if my experiences with Rhonda and Helga are any indication. At least this way, you and I are still on speaking terms."

"That hurts, Arnold." Nadine sniffed. "I was the reason our relationship failed. Not you."

"Maybe. Or maybe you just bailed out of it before I ruined it."

"Don't say that!" Nadine shook her head, appearing in the doorway with a pleading look on her face. "You're a good man, Arnold. You're not a saint. You're not perfect. You make mistakes. But you do not set out to hurt people. I…I don't think any of us do. Even Helga doesn't do that."

"Then why did she leave me?" Arnold asked, sounding weak and frightened. "Why did she give up on us?"

Nadine looked at him, knowing she was on the verge of crying, that Arnold was nearly in the same place. "Do you really want the answer to that question?"

"More than anything. But I don't know if Helga will ever even talk to me again."

Nadine pondered her situation for a moment before deciding to reveal exactly what she though Helga's reasons were for leaving her love. "Because she's insecure. And because she loves you, Arnold. She's…I think she's so afraid of losing you that she wanted to leave before you walked out on her. Or worse…that she would somehow ruin you, that she would…would drag you down to her level. She thinks so little of herself…she doesn't think she could ever make someone else happy…"

"Why?" Arnold whispered, breaking into small tears that streamed down his face. "Why would she ever think that?"

"Because she's not used to anyone liking her for who she is. Because she doesn't think she's worthy of your love."

"How do you know?" He asked, not knowing why Nadine would feel she possessed such an in-depth understanding of Helga.

"Because it's…because that's exactly how I felt when I…when I shut you out. I know exactly how she feels. She loves you so completely, that she wants to save you from herself. There's some kind of beautiful irony in that, don't you think? There are a lot of different ways to think of Helga, but in her own way, she manages to prove how much she truly loves you. Much like Rhonda. And myself." Nadine blushed, brushing her arm over her face.

"I don't deserve any of you, Nadine. I'm the one whose responsible for all of this. I might've been able to convince Helga to come back if I hadn't decided to take shelter in Rhonda's arms. And if I wasn't talking to Helga behind Rhonda's back, then Rhonda would still be here now. I did something terrible to both of them. The only ironic thing here is that I was so intent on not hurting either one of them that I devastated them both." Arnold buried his face in his hands.

"You can't say that with me." Nadine shook her head. "I was the one who hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me, Nadine. I was upset. I was disappointed. I laid awake at night wondering what I had done. But you didn't hurt me. It wasn't like you left me for someone else, or played me for some kind of fool."

"_I _was the fool." The blonde girl insisted. "I wouldn't let you in when I needed you the most. Arnold, there were so many things that I meant for us. Maybe it's crazy to talk about it the same way now, but back then, I was so happy just to be with you. I couldn't have imagined a time when we weren't together. When everything I was became something else to share with you. I turned my back on that. I was the one who betrayed us."

"That's not true!" Arnold stopped her. "You never betrayed us, Nadine. Even when you wouldn't talk to me…you never abandoned me. I knew that somewhere inside you still cared. If anything, I was the one who failed. I should've pushed more, found some way to get you to talk to me, about anything. But I didn't. I just…I believed that one day, you would say what you were unwilling to. But you never did."

"But I was the one who made you leave me, Arnold. I was the one who let go. Rhonda asked me, Arnold. She asked me for my permission to go out with you. I could've said no." Nadine sniffed, letting tears fall down her face. "I could've stopped it. I could've told her how much I loved you and I just needed some way to be made right again. That I needed someone to make me stop ignoring you and give me the help I so desperately needed. I could've told her that if I lost you completely I'd be broken into pieces that could never be put back together again, asked her not to take away the only good thing I was clinging onto but stubbornly refusing to open up with. I could've told Rhonda anything, and she wouldn't have pursued you. Because she's still my best friend, even though we're different now. Because there's some silly kind of bond between us, and even when we haven't talked in months, it's like we can just pick up wherever we left off and no one is the wiser. All I had to do was say no. But I didn't. I couldn't. I couldn't stop thinking of you, how unfair I was being, how lonely you must feel, and how sad you looked whenever you came to talk to me in the cafeteria and I would hardly even acknowledge you were there. I just couldn't take away any more of your happiness. And I knew that Rhonda would treat you well. I knew that the two of you would make a fine couple, and most importantly, that she would make you happy. Because I could already tell she was in love with you when she asked me. I've known Rhonda Wellington Lloyd for most of my life, and I'd never seen her so…so giddy before. After all those years, she'd finally found someone she could actually give her heart to. I couldn't deny her that experience. I couldn't deny _you _that experience. You said it yourself, Arnold. Being in love with Rhonda changed your entire life, and I'll never be convinced that it wasn't for the better. You two belonged together. Maybe you still do. Maybe not. That's not my decision to make. And I know that even though she never had a proper way of showing it, Helga has loved you longer and stronger than either Rhonda or I could ever possibly hold a candle to. Rhonda can't compete with that, Arnold. Who could? She's a crazy girl, but she's also brilliant. She's been turning your life upside down since we were in pre-school. If what she said to you is to be believed, she loved you then. She still loves you now. How many people can possibly be that lucky?"

"Nadine…I--"

Nadine did not allow Arnold to finish his thought. "Are you in love with Helga Pataki?" She asked, grabbing for the photograph that stood in a simple frame on the coffee table. "Look at the two of you in this picture, Arnold. I can't recall many times I've seen Helga happier than she looks in this picture."

Slowly, Arnold allowed his eyes to be diverted to the photograph that Nadine held, and he had to admit that the girl was right. Helga did look happy. It was just a simple picture of the two of them sitting on the front stoop. It was taken about a month or so after they had been married, by her sister Olga, if Arnold remembered correctly. Helga's arms were wrapped lovingly around his neck, and she had this happy, satisfied, peaceful expression of a young girl who had just realized that she had received everything she wanted for Christmas. Her head was nestled gently in his tangle of hair. It was a rare moment for Helga, allowing others to see her with her guard down, especially family. But why shouldn't she be happy, if indeed he was what she really wanted out of life? What struck Arnold's attention specifically was the look on his own face. He was starting to remember that day now, and that was definitely one of the better points in their all too brief marriage. He was really starting to learn more about Helga, and she was coming to trust him more. It had felt pleasant and fulfilling, the way she clung herself to him. It began to alleviate his doubts that she could ever love him, for her actions not only looked genuine, but they had the same feel that Arnold had come to know from both Nadine and Rhonda before her. Helga was complicated, she was frustrating, she was frequently cruel and then shockingly kind, she was witty, she was brilliant, she was devious, she was resourceful…and she was the most incredible woman Arnold could ever imagine. The notion that she would focus the full attention of her being solely on making him her groom told him everything he would ever need to know about the subject. Helga Pataki loved him and whether or not he liked it, whether or not Helga liked it—she was never going to stop. And after everything that had happened between them since they had first met fifteen years ago, but especially in the last few months, Arnold knew that there was no way he could ever deny her.

Looking away from the picture and back at Nadine, Arnold Short made the decision that would change all of their lives.

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_Hello, Strangers! _By Ginger Foutley

_I almost died once. It's not a part of my life that I particularly like to talk about. It's a time that, even today, I'm still trying hard to forget. Even now, nine years later, I'm still not entirely sure how to describe it. I remember walking around, feeling like there was a knife in my belly, delivered by the one person I never thought could ever find in himself to hurt me. But he did. Eight hours later, drifting in and out of conciousness, I would learn that my ugly metaphor had become my cruel reality. There isn't much I remember after that. Ceilings. Darkness. The sensation of moving, things being hooked up to me, the voice of my mom saying I would be all right. I couldn't talk. I remember that I wanted to. I needed to tell her the truth. Nothing was ever going to be okay again. Then there was light, warm, forgiving, everything slowed down...and nothing. I don't really remember them taking me to the operating room. Just light. But for some reason, I remember being out of it, somehow. Not awake. Not asleep. Not myself. Neither Mom nor Dr. Dave will tell me the truth. But I think that they almost lost me. At the time, I think I would've been glad to go. What did it matter? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't put myself back together again. And the only person that I'd ever truly loved had given up on us. I had nothing. I wanted...nothing. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to stop hurting. And somewhere on a table in the bowels of my local hospital, I let go. I wasn't scared. It didn't hurt. It was...it was so easy. I could hear voices. Frantic, drifting, trying to hold on to what was never theirs. And then I became aware of it again. The pain. As though someone had grabbed hold of me and forced me back down. "Not yet. Not yet." Then, there was just the blackness again. And sometime later...hours...days...I can never be sure...I remember my eyes opened. And the first thing I thought, the first thing I knew, was that I was alive. I knew I was alive because I still hurt too much to be dead. And there was this brief veil of sorrow and disappointment in...I don't know what. To this day, I still don't know what. I'm left wondering if, for a few brief moments of my adolescence, I really wanted to die. _

_What frightens me the most is that when I'm honest with myself, I don't think that I like the answer. There are many occasions in my life where I've been unhappy, upset, and perhaps even a little distressed. But from an emotional standpoint, I've never felt as low as I did that day, running through everything my life had become in my mind, and trying to find that one mistake I made that ultimately undid me. I've tried before, tried and failed to put the way that I really felt into words. They're clumsy and hollow and I feel like they're a poor excuse for the truth. Dr. Dave saved my life that night. He'll never admit it to me, but he doesn't have to. He saved my life, and as I had time to reflect in the weeks that came afterward, what I really appreciated was how he saved me because I was just a girl in trouble. It didn't matter that I was his stepdaughter, that he was engaged to my mother. He would've done the same for anyone. And yet, even though he was only following the almighty Hippocratic oath, I know that in his heart, he treated me differently. He wasn't going to let go of me, not for anyone or anything. I still get that feeling from him today. He wasn't in the picture for most of my life. He's not my father. He doesn't pretend to be. And none of it matters, nothing at all. Whenever I see him, I get the same kind of soft, warm feeling inside that I do when my dad is around. And I know that Doctor Dave loves me as though I am his own, he's taken all of us in as part of his family, willingly and without any hesitation. He's a great man, and it's very fortunate that he came into my life when he did. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here to tell you all of this._

_I hate talking about these days. I hate how my high school career started. I hate the fact that I wasn't mature enough to handle the change. All throughout middle school, I'd always prided myself on being mature and sensible, a voice of reason. Those who know me best also know that I'm not saying I was a stick in the mud—I've got the criminal record to prove I could be as reckless and irresponsible as I wanted to be. I thought that I had it together. But I didn't. High school started out as one failure after another for me. But when Darren confronted me, saying our relationship was over…that I couldn't take. Something inside of me just…broke. I just wanted the world to stop. I wanted everything to stop piling up on me. I just wanted to sleep, and I didn't care when I woke up. It just had to stop. I never meant to let my appendix take all my friends and loved ones on the emotional roller coaster with me, but fate had other ideas. _

_But as life has a way of doing, it went on. It kept going. I kept going. One step at a time. I recovered. I usually do have a way of bouncing back, even if I was a little different now. A little wiser. A little sadder. A little heartbroken. They say that time heals all wounds. Or maybe it's supposed to be that time wounds all heels, I've always felt that to be a far more accurate statement. Time doesn't necessarily heal our pain. It's just that we learn to live with them. And there's always a scar left afterwards, be it physical or emotional. I've had my heart jerked around enough in middle school to deal with the feelings. But what I really learned from this breakup was that Darren was the first…and perhaps only…boy I've ever loved. I didn't have trouble getting over Ian or Sasha. But losing Darren left me with a hole in my heart the size of Texas, and that was what I had to find a way to cope with. That was what I needed to live through. That was what I need to accept as my new reality. Even now, years after the fact, when it doesn't matter anymore, when Darren and I are having a pretty successful second (or is third or fourth—there's some incidents from later years in high school that might or might not count) try, I sometimes find myself laying awake at night, replaying that fateful day over and over again in my head. When Darren dumped me. And I keep trying to ask myself what it was that I did wrong. How did it come to that? Only now, I'm mature enough to face the truth. I wanted us to break up. Or at least, some part of me did. I didn't do anything to try and stop. The entire time, all the signs were right in front of me that our relationship was falling apart. But I never did anything more than half or quarter-hearted attempts to stop it. And even though I was cut deeper than I'd ever thought possible when Darren finally left me, when I crawled into an emotional bunker and then I began my medical crisis…I just felt so disappointed in myself, in Darren…in us. And then he didn't come to see me in the hospital and I felt more alone than ever and…well, that's another story for another time, I'm pushing up against my maximum allocated space as it is. I don't know if I'll want to talk about this again. Or maybe I'll just write a book about it down the road and call it even, I can't say. I think the point I'm trying desperately to make is that sooner or later, we have to let all this stuff out. I don't like revealing my weaknesses, my failures. But I have them. We all do. They're a part of who I am, and the things that hurt me are ultimately what make me Ginger. And sometimes, I have to learn not to be afraid of them. It's something that we all have to do. Look ourselves in the mirror and embrace what we see. Maybe we have flaws, maybe there are things we need to change. Maybe there are good parts that we need to hold onto. But we must accept who we are before we start making decisions about who we want to become. I hope that I've managed to do that. And if you're lucky, so have you. If not, then there's still time. Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Make it a good one._

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Late afternoon summer sunlight spilled into the simple bar as Lor held the door open for Helga to pass through. It was not the first bar that Helga had visited, having once been in a rather rowdy roadhouse with her mother Miriam at the tender age of nine. That was just one of many events in Helga's life she wished she could forget, but her life would be nothing if not for regrets. "So this is where you work?" Helga asked, scowling.

"It's a living." Lor countered. Technically, she wasn't scheduled to be on duty for another two hours, but since she had lived alone until recently, Lor also found herself hanging out frequently. The place was dark enough to be a shelter from the rest of the world, without seeming like a full-blown den of iniquity. Even though it was early for her shift, Lor stepped behind the bar to search for something to snack on. She was also buying time to figure out the best way to start pushing Helga to take charge of her situation, a task that probably wouldn't prove to be easy. Everything Lor knew about Helga told her that the younger girl was determined to be unhappy.

"You know, Lor, you could be arrested for serving me. I'm still only eighteen, doi!" Helga crossed her arms over her chest haughtily, already bored with this place.

"Who said anything about serving you booze?" Lor asked as she pulled a bucket of salted peanuts out from under the counter. "I'm just looking for snacks, and we'll both be having Yahoo. Just because I care about you doesn't mean I'm willing to go to jail over you."

"Thanks for your concern." Helga rolled her eyes, giving the room a once over. The place was empty, save for a young couple sitting nearby, staring intently into a laptop like they were studying its display. Lor handed Helga a glass containing straight Yahoo soda, while Lor herself enjoyed hers with a few splashes of gin. Upon handing over the drink, Lor's eyes were immediately drawn to what Helga was looking at, and her mouth went agape for a moment? Reggie? Sammy? Is that you?"

The girl with tawny skin and purple hued hair looked up in surprise, then her face spread into a grin. "Lor!" She cheered, running over to greet her friend. Lor set her drink down on the bar and the two girls embraced in a hug. "When we came in and you weren't here, I assumed you had the day off or something!"

"Nah, but this works out great. I was hoping we'd run into you here. It's been awhile since you called, but I did remember saying that the tournament had been moved up." Lor explained.

"The tournament's a little early this year." Reggie nodded. "Sammy and I had to get a week off from work to make it. My brother's doing a few practice runs right now, but Sam and I wanted to take a break. He's coaching me." She smirked, blushing a little.

"Don't worry about it, Reg, you'll knock 'em dead out there. When are you up?"

"Tomorrow evening at high tide. You've got to come!"

"Don't worry, I won't miss it." Lor agreed, then remembered her manners. "Oh! Here, let me introduce you to my current project. You know, the one I told you about when I last talked to you."

"Project?!" Helga protested, annoyed at the way Lor was describing her. Lor continued on as though Helga hadn't spoken a word.

"Helga, meet Rocket Girl. Rocket Girl, Helga."

"Rocket Girl?" Helga raised her eyebrow inquisitively. "Now there's a name you don't hear every day."

"Family nickname." Reggie explained. "But it stuck, so I figured I'd use it for competitions and stuff. My real name is Reggie. Reggie Rocket. But on the circuit, 'Rocket Girl' has a bit more flair, you know?"

Helga nodded to be polite. "You surf." She said flatly, inclining her head towards the laptop computer that Reggie and her companion had been studying intently. The blonde girl watched the video stream as an image of Reggie ripped across the screen, threading a rather intense wave with not only bravado, but grace. She was beyond fearless—Reggie looked as though she was doing what she was born to do. Water sports, for obvious reasons, were not at all popular where Helga came from, but she was still able to appreciate the finesse and genuine artistry it took to excel at a sport like surfing. At least, until the video ended with Reggie falling behind and getting sucked into the primal force of the wave.

"You got cocky there." The boy sitting next to the computer pointed at the screen.

"I know, I know." Reggie agreed with a sigh. "But I was still seventy points behind. I was trying to bring myself back up in the rankings." She sulked.

Helga chimed in. "The guy's right, though, Rocket Girl. You pushed your luck."

Reggie looked at the blonde as though taking her in fully. "Lor tells me you're not much of a risk taker." She stared. "To be honest, I only take risks when it comes to competition, and when it isn't dangerous."

"Lor says a lot of things." Helga sniffed.

"And most of them are true." Lor retorted. "Especially when they're about you."

The boy who had been sitting quietly until now spoke up. "Ladies, ladies. There's no need to fight, you're all pretty."

Reggie growled audibly in frustration. "Sammy…"

"Hey, hey." Sam quieted her, placing his hands on her should and gently kneading. "Don't stress. It robs you of your natural beauty."

Reggie rolled her eyes. "Cut out the cute comments. But keep massaging." Reggie added, smiling and leaning against him slightly.

Lor smirked at the two of them. "I was right. You two do make the cutest couple. And 'cute' is not a word that I'm prone to throw around." Lor reminded her friends.

Reg blew a raspberry at Lor. "Pfft. Tell that to my brother. He was so not happy about Sam and I." Reggie quickly flashed her left hand, showing off a rather meager diamond ring. It was small, but even Helga had to admit that there was something warm about the way it softly glinted in the dim light, untold promises dancing along its surface.

"I'll replace it with a bigger one when we actually have some money!" Sam began waving his arms frantically, feeling embarrassed that he hadn't been able to give his childhood friend and love more.

"Don't you dare!" exclaimed Reggie, punching Sam in the shoulder, playfully but with enough force to let him know she meant it. "This is the ring that you promised me with, Sam. This is us. I don't care about the jewelry, I care about you and me, and everything we are." She laced the fingers of her left hand with his own. "I want you as you are."

"Oh brother." Helga mumbled, realizing too late that she had made her comment audible.

Reggie glared at the blonde girl for being so pointedly rude, but she decided to cut Helga some slack. If Lor was to be believed, then Helga had already been through a lot. It wasn't surprising that so public a display of affection would set her off. "Sorry about the PDA. I'm not usually the mushy type. Sometimes I can be so casual that I'm not even sure how Sammy puts up with me." She laughed.

"Very carefully." Sammy chuckled. "And because I like you, Reg." He rubbed his neck sheepishly, suddenly feeling put on the spot.

"Well, duh." Lor laughed, wondering to herself at his geekiness. "Every summer, you two would always pass through here for a surfing tournament. It's been that way since we first met three years ago. And every summer, I've been watching lover boy here eat himself alive over his feelings for you, Reggie. I got worried about him. You have to let that stuff out, you know? It's bad to let it fester. Besides, you never know how all those pent up emotions and frustrations might start coming out. Plus, you run the risk of losing the one you love to someone else, and then where will you be?"

Helga crossed her arms over her chest, scowling. "Now, turn the knife counter-clockwise, why don't you? Criminey! I did not come here for a lecture! I didn't even want to come here in the first place! And the last thing I could ever want is an evaluation by complete strangers who know nothing about me!"

"Well maybe it's exactly what you need!" Reggie growled, beginning to lose her patience.

"Reggie--" Sam started, trying to cut her off.

"Don't interrupt me, Sam, I'm just getting started." Reggie Rocket drew herself up to her full height and narrowed her eyes, causing Sam to gulp audibly. She then rounded on Helga. "You're afraid. You just want to destroy your relationship with the person you claim to love and then run away. You're such a coward. You have to learn to stop."

"Don't even pretend that you know me, Rocket Girl!" Helga spat, emphasizing the nickname derisively. Her retort had no effect, and Reggie continued, unfazed.

"Am I wrong?" She asked Helga, waiting on an answer. "Admit it, I'm not. There are people here who feel sorry for you, Helga. When Lor told me about you and asked if I could help, my heart actually went out to you after she told me your story. You may be right when you say that I don't know you. But maybe that's exactly what you need right now. Someone who doesn't know you and who can give an honest opinion. Maybe I've only known you for a few minutes. But I'm offering you my help. Lor told me about you. And Lor is my friend. So if you're Lor's friend, then that makes me your friend too as far as I'm concerned. So what do you say? Can we at least talk about it?"

Helga considered her words for a moment, and seemed on the verge of accepting before her pride got the better of her. "Why is this so important to you, anyway?" She threw her arms up in the air in exasperation, then crossed them over her chest. "You don't know me. And I can take care of myself. Just because Lor has some kind of twisted fixation on being the mother I never really had, doesn't mean I need her. Or you."

Reggie looked at the angry blonde girl sadly. "Are you really that proud, Helga?" She asked softly. "I want nothing from you. I ask nothing of you, but to talk to me. I'm not here to judge."

"Oh criminey." Helga rolled her eyes. "Just what I need, another would be analyst. As if Lor wasn't bad enough." Helga sighed in defeat. "Normally, I'd refuse to out of spite. But since Lor seems to have arranged a full scale intervention, I figure I'm surrounded."

"Something like that." Lor explained, grinning. "I'm glad you've finally come to see it my way. You know, Helga, as much as you may be loathe to admit it, there are people here who care about you. And as determined as you are to spend the rest of your life wallowing in self-pity, I'm not going to let that happen. I'm going to force you to face your fears. I'm going to make you claim the happiness you've been denying yourself your whole life, and I'm going to rip you off of the experience of living your entire life wondering what might have been if you hadn't been so proud and cowardly."

"What do you even--"

"You love him." Lor continued on, using Reggie's tactic of ignoring Helga's protests. "I know how it is. I've been there. And you know what? I did nothing. I said nothing. I kept it all inside. Check me out now, Helga. I've got nothing. Nothing but a ratty apartment and a job peddling booze. And this." Lor trotted to the bar, ducking behind it. She felt underneath the cash register for an envelope she had hidden beneath the till. Inside the envelope was something that represented to Lor her greatest failure in life. Reluctantly, yet with purpose, Lor withdrew the secreted paper from its hiding place and briefly held it against her heart; though what lay within the envelope was a pain Lor was certain would never completely dissipate. Quietly, Lor walked back to her roommate and handed her the envelope. Helga opened it with a curious expression on her face. Inside the dusty paper enclosing was something that surprised Helga—a wedding invitation.

Helga cocked an eyebrow as she unfolded the elegant invitation, reading aloud the calligraphy that Lor had long since memorized, scripting that Lor had no doubt her one time best friend had done by hand. "You are cordially invited to attend the blessed union of Mr. Tino Tonitini and Miss Pedratishkovna Katsufrakis…" Helga trailed off. "Man, how'd she end up saddled with that crummy last name? If you ask me, she's definitely trading up."

"More than you know." Lor whispered. "I care about him…I love him." Lor turned her face away from the others, not wanting to appear weak. "I just…never realized it in time. Then in junior high, he started dating my best friend…and now they're getting married." She squeaked, breaking down. "But what hurts the most is how happy they are together. I keep getting left with this feeling that even if I was the one marrying him—that I couldn't make him that happy. And it hurts so much to know that. To see how perfect they are for each other and still be in love with him. I just want it to stop. But I don't know how!" Lor's voice finally broke, and her shame became complete as she became aware everyone knew she was crying.

"Lor!" Reggie ran over to her friend, gently throwing her arms around the crying girl. "Shhh." Reg softly comforted Lor as the tearing girl struggled not to sob. "Hey now, it's okay. It's okay, Lor. Reggie motioned to Sam with her right hand for him to take Helga and slip outside. Sam awkwardly nodded at Helga to follow him out the door. They both quietly began to walk out, until a word from Lor stopped them.

"No. Stay." She breathed, biting back a sob and asserting control over herself. "This is why I took you in, Helga. You're letting go of what you wanted. Don't do what I did, Helga. It's not worth it. I'm all style and no substance. I can talk a good game but I can't back it up. I've seen the world but I haven't made my mark on it. I have so many regrets…and all I really want is a second chance to be a kid again. Maybe savor it a little more. I had such an awesome childhood. I know it's corny…but I really miss Bahia Bay. But I've never once gone back. I'm surprised that Tino and Tish were even able to find me, I haven't talked to either of them in so many years." Lor laughed weakly, and image conjuring up in her mind. "I can picture Tino now. He gets so obsessive. I'll be her refuses to go through with the wedding unless Carver and I show up. Another friend from my childhood." Lor added, feeling the need to explain her tall, athletic friend who as far as she knew still fostered an obsession with shoes.

"Hey, I know what you mean." Reggie smiled. "I kind of miss Ocean Shores myself. I still go home every year with Sam, usually more than once. But sometimes, I miss being a kid, playing street hockey, tearing up Madtown skate park, surfing on a summer afternoon, publishing my zine…man, now that was a long time ago!"

"Does anyone even make those anymore?" Lor asked playfully, her normal demeanor beginning to return.

"Not where I come from." Helga finally spoke up. Of course, there really isn't much room for your kind of sport in Hillwood. Just the generic stuff. Football, baseball, basketball, the usual."

"You're kidding!" Reggie exclaimed. "You mean you've never done any surfing or skateboarding?!" Helga shook her head in response. "You poor kid! You were so deprived!"

"We had a roller rink for skating. Boarding was a lot tougher in my neighborhood. Way too much traffic and there weren't any skate parks. And forget about surfing, the ocean was hours away. I didn't grow up with an Oceanside view like you or the beach bum here." Helga inclined her head in Lor's direction.

"Hey!" Lor defended herself. "I didn't spend my youth lying on the beach! I did that in Europe, after I graduated high school. Besides, we're supposed to be talking about you, Helgs."

"Helgs?" Helga narrowed her eyes. "Please, spare me the pet names. I never even let Arnold--" Cursing, Helga clamped her mouth shut, knowing she had just shown vulnerability to everyone in the room.

"Now we're getting somewhere." Sam grinned, speaking in a manner Helga found all too familiar.

"I don't want to talk about it." Helga scoffed.

"Then what about doing something about it?" Reggie asked. "Come on, Helga, everyone deserves to be happy."

Lor decided to press her roommate. "And what about Arnold? I heard you talking to him He wants you. And you want him. Everything else is secondary. You may have doubts and fears, like everyone does, but that's just life. I made that same mistake years ago." Lor pointed at the invitation in Helga's hand. "Check me out now. I'm practically a drunk. And I still won't go home." She shook her head.

"Why should I?" Helga asked, resisting. "So I can get run over by Rhonda Lloyd?! No thank you. I've embarrassed myself enough as it is. Besides, Lor, you've already made my point for me. What was it you were saying earlier about the man you loved? That you couldn't make him as happy as your rival? I mean, have you looked at me?! I'm not beautiful. I'm not popular. I'm not fun. I don't even have any direction in life!" Helga growled in exasperation. "I love him. I'll admit that at least. There's no point in denying that to any of you. But what does any of that matter, if I can't make him happy?"

"Um…excuse me?" A quiet voice interrupted, sounding hesitant. All eyes immediately fell upon Sam Dullard, who gulped audibly when he saw the angry look on Helga's face.

"What?!" Helga asked with a scowl, glaring at the only boy in the room.

"Well…I was just…wondering…why are you so sure that you can't make him happy? Is he the shallow, superficial type?"

"Are you kidding me?!" Helga replied in shock and anger. "Arnold is the most gentle soul I've ever met! He's not just a man, he…he changes people. For the better. God knows I hate to admit it, but one year of him dating Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was enough to turn her into a worthwhile person. And believe me, she was a stuck up, prissy little rich bitch when we were growing up. But Arnold saw something better in her. And she must have seen something different in him, probably the same thing I always have. Something she couldn't buy. I watched them from afar. I hated her for being with him, for scoring that final victory over me. But when I saw it in her eyes, I was forced to admit it. She loved him. Just like me. How could I not recognize the love in her eyes, when I myself have work that same look upon my face for so long? I hated…not, that's not right. I didn't hate her for loving him. That's a sin I'm guilty of myself. But Rhonda could reach him where I could not. She put herself on the line like I never could. Maybe that's why Arnold loved her. He changed her without even realizing what he was doing. And he still loves her now. I can't beat Rhonda. And I'm not sure that I even want to. Not if she can make him happy." Helga sniffed, beginning to shy away from the fragility she was beginning to feel. "Why should I even want to? Arnold…poor Arnold. He deserves to be happy. He deserves someone who loves him without all this baggage. When I think of the life she could give him…it just doesn't hurt so badly anymore. And it gives me hope that maybe I'm not so selfish. Maybe I can redeem myself simply by letting go of him." Helga finished, collapsing into a chair.

Sam immediately took a seat and sat directly in front of Helga, who was staring intently at her shoes. "Hey, come on now. Don't say that, Helga. You can't. Not yet, not when there's so much at stake. If you love him, then you can't give up yet. Not until you know for certain what he wants. Don't get me wrong, I think it's noble of you to be willing to let the man you love go off with another. But what if that isn't what Arnold wants? What if he wants you?"

"Even if he does, he's better off with Rhonda than with me. Not that it's any of your business." Helga added gruffly.

"Maybe not." Sam replied. "But I know what you're talking about. I…I almost let someone that I care about get away once, because I thought it would be better."

"Sam!" Reggie interjected, ready to do damage control. "You don't have to do this."

Sam smiled for his fiancée. "But I want to. It's okay, Reggie. I think it does us all good to talk about the things we regret. And besides, she just told all of us an intimate story. I think that we owe her the same. We haven't gone yet."

"If it'll make you feel better." Helga agreed, saying nothing more.

Casually, Regina Rocket stepped behind her love, wrapping her arms gently around his neck in a gesture of affection. "Than at least let me be here with you when you tell it." She smiled, ruffling his hair.

"Who said you couldn't be?" Sam grinned, accepting her comfort.

Their casual affection intrigued Helga. "This ought to be good." She remarked, then waited for the story to begin.

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Author's Notes

And so we come to this, the ending of the chapter. Truth be told, there was going to be still another scene in here, but I completey ran out of writing time, and my choices were to delay the chapter or to put the missing scene off until next time. Seeing as how it took roughly a year and a half for me to delve back into this story, I didn't want to put it off any longer. Memorial Day seemed like a great release date to me. And so here we are. Just as an FYI to those that are curious, the missing scene was going to be exposition between Courtney, Carl, and Robert (Hoodsey). I've already penned some of it so I expect it to be in the next chapter—which will arrive considerably sooner than a year and a half, that much I can promise you.

Which brings me to my next topic, why I've been gone so long. I'm not sure exactly what to say. Back in the summer of '06, my father was diagnosed with a tumor on his brain (not in it) that could have been fatal, and my writing just stopped. He pulled through just fine, recovering from the brain surgery in record time, and all seemed normal.

And it was, which is what is confusing. After my father's medical crisis, I just started doing other things more and more, and it wasn't long before writing just became a lark. It wasn't that I no longer enjoyed writing, more like I could just always find something else to do. Even to this day, I don't write nearly as much as I used to. And because of the crisis, I lost focus on my story, which has caused it to stagnate so much since I first started it. I'm trying to remedy that now. I'm still very proud of Instant Gratification, I'm proud of all the readers I have, and I'm sympathetic to all of you whom I promised an ending to so long ago and as yet have failed to deliver. Most of all, I hate the idea of this, what I consider to be by far my greatest work, to be festering unfinished for no good reason. I have plenty ideas of what I want to do and I know what I want the ending to be. But I still need to get there, and for that, I need to regain some of the diligence I had in the past.

That said, I have decided to rededicate myself to Instant Gratification. I want this to be the next fic that I finish. After that, I'll get to work on finishing Gravity, but that's another story altogether. The only other story I'll let myself do any work on until IG is done is Operation: MOTHER, and I'm only allowing myself that because I don't do all of the writing myself, but rather it's co-written with The J.A.M. (very well, I might add).

And that's what I wanted to talk about. I've not grown apathetic about Instant Gratification, I've just become lazy, and my life has changed significantly from when i first started writing it. I used to be a very unhappy drone working for a terrible cable company, now I'm a supervisor at a great cable company. The years can change a lot, but it also means that I have more responsibility and less time for fun. But that's the nature of life, I suppose. I'm not really trying to complain, just try to explain what's been going on in my life.

But all in all, I'm happy, and moreover, I'm really ecstatic to finally be releasing another chapter of Instant Gratification. I want to thank all of you who have found this story over the years its been up here at FFN, and I hope that you'll find it in your hearts to forgive my extended absence and give me the opportunity to finish this saga and provide the proper kind of ending you've all been waiting for. I look forward to hearing your thoughts about this chapter with anxiousness and trepidation—I know I can't be the only one to have changed over the past year and a half, and I hope that my work is still found worthy in your sight. Thank you all for coming out, and I promise you I am already working on the next chapter, I want to upload it within a month or so and just keep chugging along until I finish. Until then, you know where to find me.

Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

05/26/08

3:11AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26


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